


Heaven on Their Minds

by shadowsong26



Series: Heaven on Their Minds [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Gen, Prominently features an OC, Referenced suicide, set during season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 16:03:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 26,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2235048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsong26/pseuds/shadowsong26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Castiel tracks Crowley down, looking for the Colt, Bobby finds a reference to a Weapon that can banish anything. Seeing a shot at a Plan B, Sam and Dean go to meet with a professor who might be able to help them track it down. From there, they are put on the trail of Judas Iscariot, who is not exactly what history claimed he was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1: The Sad Solution, Chapter 1: Springfield, Ohio

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I'm going to call, for lack of a better term, an In Spite of a Nail AU, breaking off at Abandon All Hope. Basically, the major arc is largely the same, but several details change. Many thanks to starling_night for the amazing [artwork](http://starling-night.livejournal.com/23055.html), and to sl_walker for betaing, and to my ever-patient roommate for serving as my sounding board.

**_Part 1: The Sad Solution_**

******Chapter 1**

_Springfield, Ohio_

 

"You sure this is the right office?" Dean asked, eyeing the door.

"Simon Goldstein, like Bobby said," Sam answered, and knocked.

"He's a cryptography professor. Not theology, not ancient languages, _cryptography._ How the hell is he supposed to help us?"

Before Sam could answer, the door opened, revealing a slight Middle Eastern man in his early forties. He was clean-shaven, with longish hair pulled back in a neat tail, and was wearing a faded tweed suit over a maroon turtleneck.

"Office hours are ov--" He blinked. "...ah. You're not my students."

"Uh, no, sir, we're not," Sam said. "I'm Sam Anders, and this is my friend, Dean Thrace. We're students down at Kansas State University. We've got some questions about some work you've done."

Professor Goldstein eyed them for a minute, then stood back, holding open the door. "I've got some time. What have you been researching?"

The office was small, and more or less exactly what was expected of a college professor's office. Most of the walls were taken up by bookshelves, with a desk squeezed into one corner. The desk was remarkably uncluttered, with neat stacks of papers next to the computer. There were no family photos, or anything else identifiably personal, other than a picture of Goldstein with a Jack Russell terrier. There was a single window, with blinds that were down but open, letting in some early afternoon sunlight.

"When you were a student at Oxford," Sam said, shutting the door behind them, "you wrote a paper on the Instruments of the Passion. We had a few questions about it."

Goldstein blinked. "Huh. Not many people dig that one up."

"We're theology students," Dean supplied. "We're all about obscure old papers no one's ever heard of."

He arched an eyebrow. "I was studying Aramaic. The paper was linguistic, not theological."

"We know," Sam said. "But you raised some points not many other scholars do."

The professor held up a hand. "I think we can dispense with the theatrics, gentlemen." He smiled slightly. "You're not the first hunters who have contacted me. What are you looking for?"

They looked at each other, surprised that he had made them so fast. "How did you...?" Sam asked.

He shook his head. "Well, you're a little old for undergrads, you don't carry yourself like grad students, and if you were actually coming from another university looking for research help, you probably would have emailed me first instead of turning up, seemingly on a whim."

Well, that made an unfortunate amount of sense. Dean would be thirty-one in January, and even Sam wasn't as babyfaced as he used to be. After this--assuming it was even relevant--they should probably stop trying to pose as students when poking around.

"We're looking for the Weapon of God," Dean said, after exchanging another look with Sam.

Goldstein stared at him, visibly taken aback. "That wasn't in my paper."

"No, it wasn't," Sam said. "But we hear you're the person to talk to about it."

The professor was silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, he was a great deal more guarded. "What, exactly, are you trying to banish?"

"Does it really matter?" Sam asked.

"It might."

"Look, you're supposed to be an expert on this thing," Dean said.

He sighed. "Expert might not be the right word. But I do know a few things about the Weapon. Enough to know you should stay away, at any rate."

"We can't do that," Sam said. "Just...do you know what it is? We can take it from there. I mean, is it the spear, a piece of--"

"Your information is off," Goldstein interrupted. "Let me guess what you know. 'One touch from the Weapon that slew the Lamb of God can shatter the mortal shell and return the Being inside to the place God designed for it.' Something along those lines?"

They exchanged another look, and then Sam nodded. "Yeah."

"You're working from a mistranslation," the professor said. "Which isn't exactly surprising. The original text is written in a very obscure dialect, only found in one other. But a better translation where you heard 'weapon' would be 'device,' or 'tool.' And the word you had translated as 'touch' should be 'kiss.'"

"That doesn't change the important part," Dean said.

Sam stared at the professor. "...wait."

"You're not looking for a spear," Goldstein said, quietly.

"The Weapon of God...is _Judas_?"

Goldstein nodded. "And, from what I understand, it's generally better to leave him alone. I assume that, if you're desperate enough to try and use him, you've already pissed off someone with a lot of power. Can you really afford another heavyweight's anger?"

"Yeah, well, we don't really have a choice," Dean said. "Do you know how to find him?"

The professor looked away. "He can be found with a basic tracking spell, I suppose. It's never worked before to my knowledge, but the principle should apply."

"We'd need a piece of him in order to do that, though," Sam said. "Is there a summoning ritual or anything we could use?"

"Yes." He didn't elaborate.

"...do you know it?"

Goldstein sighed. "Yes."

When he stopped again, Dean asked, "Well, what is it?"

"You shouldn't do this," the professor tried again. "Summoning him will likely open a can of worms you don't want to deal with."

"Let us worry about that. What's the summoning ritual?"

When he didn't answer right away, Sam asked, "Why are you trying so hard to hide it? Is he a friend of yours, or something?"

"No," Goldstein said. "But you'd still be better off leaving him alone. Trust me."

"Just give us the ritual, and then it won't be your problem anymore. Please?"

"It will be my problem if something goes wrong, though. I'll still have given it to you."

"We can take care of ourselves," Dean said.

After a long moment, Goldstein sighed, and finally gave in. "You gather the necessary components in a circle with a five-foot diameter, then you say his name three times."

"That's it?" Sam asked.

"That's it."

"What are the components?"

"Difficult to source," Goldstein replied, with obvious reluctance, then turned and pulled a book off the shelf. He flipped through several pages, then said, "You need thirty drops of blood--ten from a man who has been broken, ten from a man of true devotion, and ten from a man who has slain unwitting."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look. It was such a small amount of blood, no one had to be seriously hurt or anything--it certainly wasn't particularly hard to get, even given the source requirements. "Anything else?"

"Yes," he said, and sighed. "You need a piece of silver."

Also not especially hard to get--they had a crapload of silver around, since so many things could be killed by it--unless...

Sam groaned. "I'm guessing it has to be his?"

"Yes." Goldstein shut the book, and turned back to them. "I have a class in an hour, and you have...whatever it is you're hunting to worry about. I'd tell you again to leave well enough alone, but I'm sure you won't listen."

"Thanks anyway," Sam said.

"Of course," Goldstein said, then crossed over to open the door to them. He hesitated for a moment. "Be careful. Please."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look. "Yeah, of course," Sam said. "And thanks again, for everything."

Goldstein nodded, then shut the door behind them without another word.


	2. Part 1, Chapter 2: Sioux Falls, South Dakota

**Chapter 2**  
 _Sioux Falls, South Dakota_  
  
  
"The blood's the easy part," Bobby said. "I figure, between the three of us, we've got broken, devoted, and manslaughter covered. Goldstein didn't mention a particular order we had to add them or anything?"  
  
Sam shook his head. "Just who it had to come from and how much."  
  
"What about the coin?" Dean asked.  
  
"I'll make some calls, but I don't even know what kind of coin we're looking for. No one does, not for sure, except silver and first century."  
  
"That'd be a denarius, right?" Sam asked.  
  
"More likely a Tyrian shekel. Those were used for Temple tax, and Judas was paid by the priests, not the Romans." Bobby sighed. "I'll make a few calls, see if there's any in the area."  
  
"How likely are we to find the  _right_  Tyrian whatever, though?" Dean asked. "And are we really supposed to trust freaking  _Judas?_ Guy's not exactly known for reliability."  
  
"If you've got a better Plan B, let's hear it."  
  
"Yeah," Sam added. "If Cas can't find this Crowley demon, we've got nothing. Judas is better than nothing. And it can't hurt to at least plan for the outside possibility we'll need him."  
  
"Yeah, I guess," Dean said, but he still didn't look entirely convinced. "So...what  _is_  the plan? We find a coin, summon Judas and...then what? Just hope he's willing to play ball and not screw us over?"  
  
"...okay, you have a point there," Sam said. "Bobby, do you have any idea how to get him to help us? Goldstein didn't seem to think he'd want to."  
  
"Where'd you dig that guy up, anyway?" Dean asked.  
  
Bobby shrugged. "Friend of a friend told me about him. He's supposed to be an expert on the Arma Christi, and he knows enough about real demons to be actually helpful."  
  
"Yeah, he made us pretty quick," Sam said. "But the ritual he gave us was a summoning, not a binding, so if Judas does get pissed enough to lash out, we might have a problem."  
  
"I don't know anything off-hand. So we read up on him," Bobby said. "See if there's anything about how to contain him. We can probably buy him off, if we have to."  
  
Dean snorted. "With what?"  
  
"I got a few things he might value. Might even be as simple as giving him his coin back, if we can't sweet-talk him into helping us."  
  
Sam nodded.  
  
"I still think this is a bad idea," Dean said. "I mean, talking about maybe is one thing, but actually putting serious effort into this--"  
  
"You thought it was a good one when we thought we were looking for a piece of the True Cross," Sam pointed out.  
  
"This is different. We should be focusing on the Colt, not summoning a two-thousand-year-old jackass who may or may not try to kill us."  
  
"I get that. But...look, in that future Zachariah showed you, it took you five years to find the thing," Sam pointed out.  
  
"I've already changed that," Dean protested.  
  
"'Course you have," Bobby agreed. "But do you really want to bet everything on  _that_  part changing? Just 'cause the important stuff's changed don't mean all the little details follow the way we want 'em to. Besides, it probably won't take me five years to find a coin, so that's an advantage there."  
  
"You're sure about that?" Sam asked.  
  
"No, that would be why I said 'probably,'" Bobby answered. "But it can't hurt to try."  
  
Dean finally nodded. "All right. Fine. You win. Freaking Judas is a better backup plan than nothing."  
  
"Okay, then." Bobby wheeled over to a shelf and pulled out a couple of books. "Start reading--anything you can find on Judas, what he likes, what pisses him off, how to contain or kill him. I'll work on finding a coin."  
  
Dean made a face. "Or maybe Cas will call before we have to do this," he muttered.  
  
"Beats sitting around and doing nothing," Sam pointed out.  
  
"Yeah." He flopped on the couch, and started reading.


	3. Part 1, Chapter 3: Sioux Falls, South Dakota

**Chapter 3**  
 _Sioux Falls, South Dakota_

 

"Judas Iscariot. Judas Iscariot. Judas Iscariot."

Nothing happened.

"Maybe we got the wrong coin?" Sam tried, after a minute.

"No, it's real," Bobby said. "Gail wouldn't give me a fake, she owes me too much."

"Unless she didn't know."

"Or maybe that professor screwed us," Dean pointed out. "He wasn't exactly falling all over himself to help."

"Yeah, maybe." Sam chewed his lower lip for a minute. "Hey, what if neither of them screwed us, and we're just using the wrong language?"

"What do you mean?"

"His name--like, his true name--it would be in his native language, wouldn't it?"

"Probably," Bobby said. "And we'd that need to summon him. _Balls._ Should have thought of that sooner."

"So...what?" Dean asked "Latin, Hebrew?"

"Probably Aramaic," Sam said. "Judas is Hellenized, his name should be Yehudah, and there'd be a patronymic. Do we know what his father's name was?"

Bobby wheeled over to his desk, and flipped through a Bible. "Simon."

"Okay." Sam turned back to the circle, and took a breath. "Yehudah bar Simon. Yehudah bar Simon. Yehudah bar Simon."

This time, it worked. The coin started to glow, and a soft, low-pitched hum came from the circle itself. The blood droplets rose into the air, swirling around in an infinity symbol, faster and faster, until the humming died away and the blood and the light resolved into a familiarly slight Middle Eastern man.

Professor Simon Goldstein.

He was wearing another turtleneck, this one dark green--chances were he always wore them, if there was a scar on his neck he wanted to hide--but no jacket, and his hair was loose to his shoulders. He was tense, his eyes flicking from Sam to Dean to Bobby, then around the room, like a caged animal looking for any way out.

For a long moment, no one said anything.

Dean finally broke the silence. "... _seriously?_ "

Goldstein--Judas--turned to focus on him, clearly doing his best to slam on an unreadable mask. Despite his efforts, he couldn't quite camouflage his wariness. With carefully feigned casualness, he shrugged. "I never thought you'd find a coin. Most people assume denarii instead of shekels. And I was under the impression that all of them were held by...someone I trust."

"Why even give us the ritual, if you didn't want us to summon you?" Sam asked.

"I can't lie," Judas said, still keeping most of his focus on Dean.

"You can't lie?" Dean said, surprised. " _You_ can't lie?"

"The sky is g--" He cut off. His mouth worked for a moment, with no sound. He took a deep breath, and then said, "See? I can't say anything I know to be untrue, and you _cornered_ me. I can only evade for so long, especially when people know I have the answers they want. And I couldn't keep stalling without exposing myself another way. Thank you for that, by the way," he added, his eyes flicking over to Sam for a moment. "It's so nice to be reminded that I can't protect myself when I need to."

"Look, I'm sorry about that, really I am. But we need your help," Sam cut in, before Dean could antagonize him further.

"So I gathered," Judas replied, dryly. "But you won't get it."

"Just hear us out," Bobby tried. "You don't even know who we're after."

"I don't need to," he said. "My answer is still no."

"We're going after Lucifer," Sam pressed.

Judas stared at him for a long moment. "Good luck with that."

"So, you won't help us?"

"There's not really much point."

"There's no limit to what you do, is there?" Dean asked.

"Not that I've come across," Judas admitted. "But that doesn't mean I'm a good solution to your problem."

"We're pretty much down to bad ones, anyway," Bobby said. "And you're one of the best options out there."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Judas said, and he sounded sincere. "But I don't think you quite understand how it works. _If_ I did what you ask, Lucifer would be banished--but _only_ banished--and his vessel would die in horrible pain." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, but the first is too little, and the second is too much. I will not do this thing."

"Even if his vessel dies--and I don't like that any more than you do, believe me--you can help us stop the Apocalypse," Dean said. "That's gotta be worth it."

"No," Judas said, "I _can't_. Even without my other objections, even _if_ I managed to get close enough to Lucifer to kiss him, it wouldn't stop anything. You're forgetting that, no matter who is in the wrong and who starts it, there are _always_ two sides to a war. And, from what I hear, Heaven is just as committed to this as Hell is."

Sam blinked. "How do you know...?" _They_ hadn't even known that until way too late to do anything about it, and Judas was seemingly trying to keep himself as isolated as possible. As much as he might have wanted to learn, it would be sort of hard to pick up on Heaven's secret plans while in hiding, wouldn't it?

"I have my sources," the Weapon said shortly. Then, glaring at Sam as if he could read his mind, he added, "And do _not_ try to corner me again, I won't tell you more."

"Whatever, we don't care about that," Dean said.

 _At least not now,_ Sam guessed he wanted to add.

Instead, Dean continued with, "Screw all that stuff about only half-working, and Michael. We'll figure out a way to deal with him, if we have to. First, we gotta stop the Devil. Plus, look at it this way. If you do this, maybe you can make up for all the crap you pulled--"

" _Don't,_ " Judas interrupted, his calm facade locking down onto something far more dangerous, "bring that up. It won't help your case."

Before any of them could respond, Dean's phone rang. He shot a look at Judas. "We're not finished here." He stepped out to take the call.

Judas deflated a little and rubbed at his temples. Clearly he'd decided that Dean was, of the three of them, the most threatening.

Well, whether or not that was true, Sam could use that. _Might as well throw in a little 'good cop',_ he thought. He glanced over at Bobby, who nodded and backed off a little to give Sam room to work.

"Why not?" Sam asked, pitching his voice soft and as friendly--or at least non-hostile--as he could without being too obvious and giving the game away.

"Why not what?" Judas responded, without looking up. He was being deliberately obtuse. Not that Sam could blame him.

"You know what I mean," he pressed, keeping his voice low and calm.

"Because redemption doesn't _work_ like that."

"You never know until you try," Sam persisted.

He sighed, and met Sam's eyes. "Look. I know what I am. I am a traitor and a murderer, and stains like that don't ever come out. I accepted that a long time ago. There is no redemption for me. Not now, not ever. And even if there was, I wouldn't find it in murdering someone else. Even Lucifer. Not in my own mind, and certainly not in the eyes of men. I can't help you."

"Can't, or won't?" Sam asked.

He looked away. "Does it really matter?"

Sam opened his mouth to respond, but stopped, not sure exactly what he should say. Judas was wrong about that--he _had_ to be--but he'd had two thousand years to come to that point of view, and...well, with everything that Sam had done, how the hell was _he_ supposed to persuade him otherwise in just a few minutes?

He glanced over at Bobby, who shrugged, clearly feeling like that particular avenue had stalled out.

"That was Cas," Dean said, rejoining them before Sam could figure out what to say next. "He found Crowley."

"So, clearly you have an alternative," Judas said, straightening and closing off again. "Does this mean I can go?"

"Yeah, not yet," Dean said.

"I won't lash out, if that's what you're worried about," he said. "I promise. Just let me go back to my life unharmed. We can all pretend this never happened."

Sam shook his head. "We can't let you go until this is over."

"The boys are right," Bobby said. "Sorry, but if we found you, that means someone else might, too. We can’t take that chance."

Judas stared at him for a minute, then sighed. "I'll just wait here, then."

"...that was fast," Bobby said.

He shrugged. "I'm stuck here until one of you breaks the circle, so I don't really have much choice."

"So, all that stuff you said earlier, about not wanting to piss off another heavyweight, that was...what, a bluff?" Dean asked.

"I thought you said you couldn't lie." Sam added.

Judas smiled a little, all teeth. "I can't."

"...well, that's not creepy at all," Dean muttered.

There was something there, in the way Judas was phrasing things, that Sam thought might be important. And, if Judas really _couldn't_ lie, it would probably be painfully obvious once he finally figured it out. He just couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Could I at least have something to read while I'm stuck here, please?" Judas asked, before Sam could follow up and try to work a few more hints out of him.

Bobby grabbed a couple of old magazines off a table, and dropped them into the circle.

"Thank you," he said, and picked one up, clearly planning to ignore them from now on.

"Think we need to leave someone to watch him?" Sam asked, quiet enough that he hoped the Weapon wouldn't overhear. Despite the fact that he'd been painfully sincere before, when he and Sam had been more or less one-on-one, there were too many unanswered questions here.

Bobby shook his head. "He's probably right, about not being able to break the circle from the inside, and we need all hands on deck to plan what we're gonna do next. Come on, let's go over what Cas said."

Sam nodded, but shot one more uneasy glance at their captive before shutting the door and leaving him alone.


	4. Part 1, Chapter 4: Sioux Falls, South Dakota

**Chapter 4**  
 _Sioux Falls, South Dakota_

 

Castiel found Judas sitting cross-legged in the middle of his circle, staring at his coin, turning it over and over in his fingers, the magazines he'd been given earlier stacked neatly at his side.

"I didn't know they were planning to reach out to you," he started, in Aramaic--it would hopefully reassure Judas that he meant no harm, if they spoke in the Weapon's native tongue. "I'm sorry, I would have stopped them if I did."

Judas snorted a little laugh, then glanced up at him. "Are you planning on releasing me, then?" he asked, in the same language.

The angel hesitated. He _did_ plan on releasing Judas, of course, but... "It would be good of you to help us."

Judas shook his head, gave the angel a brief, sad smile, and turned his attention back to the coin. "I've already given my answer. If you want more details, ask them."

"Not with that," Castiel said. "We have the Colt. That should work."

"What, then?"

"I...if I were to get separated from them...we don't know what Lucifer will bring with him, but his support will not be minimal. You could help keep them safe until they face him."

Judas was silent for a long moment. "I could," he admitted.

"Will you?"

Another long silence.

"I'm not trying to force your hand," Castiel tried. "Whatever you decide, I'll release you. I promise. But we could use your help."

"I can't..." Judas took a deep breath. "I can't promise to get them out alive. Even if I were to go farther than..."

"I know you can't," he said. "But anything you can do..."

A cloud moved across the moon, and the coin caught a shaft of moonlight. Judas stopped turning it, studied it for a long silent moment, then sighed. "Very well," he finally said. "I'll come. And I'll help you defend them, to the best of my ability."

"Thank you. That's all I ask," Castiel said, then broke the circle as promised.

Judas rose smoothly, slipping the coin into his pocket. "I need to hide this, and I don't think the others would be entirely comfortable if I stayed here unbound. When and where should I meet you?"

"Here, tomorrow morning, early," Castiel said. "We'll probably leave before dawn."

Judas inclined his head, his hair screening his face from view. "I'll be back by then."

Castiel watched him leave, fading into the shadows in the scrap yard faster than an ordinary human would have been able to. The Weapon being at least temporarily in their camp made their minuscule chances slightly larger. Even though they were all still _far_ likelier than not to die tomorrow, at least he'd done everything he could, given the circumstances, to alter that near-inevitability.

Dean joined him moments later, and blinked at the empty circle. "What happened to Judas?"

Sam was right behind him. "He's gone?"

"He promised me that he'd be back in the morning," Castiel assured them.

"Wait, you let him go?" Dean asked, clearly not seeing the advantage to Castiel's play.

"You weren't going to be able to force him to help," the angel pointed out. "And he said he'd be back."

"And you believed him?"

"Judas doesn't lie," he said. "He may be ill tidings with a human face, but he does not lie. I'm not entirely certain that he even _can._ If he said he'd return, he will." He paused, and thought for a moment, before adding, "Unless he happens to get attacked between now and then, I suppose."

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine. I guess. Did you at least keep the coin?"

He shook his head. "It does belong to him."

"So you let him walk away with it."

Castiel nodded. "It seemed only fair."

"I hate to say it, but we _do_ need some kind of insurance," Sam said. "Even if Judas doesn't turn on us on his own, if Lucifer manages to find him, or Michael..."

"It was left in the circle with him, and I couldn't exactly take it away without ruining whatever goodwill I'd managed to build up," Castiel said. "He has already taken it to hide. And he will be back in the morning. He's agreed to provide backup at least for the first stages of our mission."

"He can do that?" Sam asked.

"Yes," Castiel said. "There are a great many things he can do, above and beyond his kiss. If nothing else, he can help identify demons if we get separated."

"Would have been nice of him to clue us in on that," Dean muttered.

"From what I understand, you weren't exactly giving him reasons to be friendly," Castiel pointed out. "He's agreed to help us despite that. And he will be here tomorrow, as promised. I'm sure of it."

"Yeah, I hope you're right about him."

"I am," Castiel said calmly. "You'll see."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, then Sam sighed. "All right. I guess we'll see him tomorrow, then."

They went back to rejoin the others, for the few hours they knew for sure they had left.


	5. Part 1, Chapter 5: Carthage, Missouri

**Chapter 5**  
 _Carthage, Missouri_

 

As promised, Judas returned just before dawn, carrying a spear. The shaft alone was taller than he was, nearly as tall as Dean; and the blade, wickedly sharp, extended another foot into the air.

"Where'd that come from?" Sam asked.

Judas smiled a little. "Does it really matter? It's sharp and it's iron, and it will be useful."

Dean eyed it. "Thought you didn't want to kill anyone."

"I don't want to be cruel," Judas corrected mildly. "Especially when it won't accomplish anything. I also don't want to be defenseless, and I'm better with this than a gun."

Dean considered that for a minute, then shrugged, accepting it.

Because Castiel was riding with the Harvelles, Judas wound up in the backseat of the Impala as they drove to Carthage. For the most part, he stayed quiet the whole way there; an uncomfortable, impossible to ignore presence that made the whole drive down even tenser. He continued to keep his silence while the three of them checked out the police station. His eyes were moving constantly, marking the streets around them, but either he didn't see any threats or he was choosing not to say anything about them.

It wasn't until until the three of them met up with the Harvelles, after they'd lost Cas and Ellen and Jo filled them in on what Cas had said he'd seen, that he spoke at all. And even that, he didn't initiate.

"You didn't mention reapers," Dean said.

Judas blinked. "Where did you get the idea I could see them?" he asked, seeming genuinely confused.

"Cas said you could help with scouting," Sam said. "I don't think we would've thought reapers if he hadn't already seen them, though."

"I can see demons' true faces, and hellhounds, and a few other things likely to turn up," Judas said. "Not reapers, though. Not unless they want me to."

"You have any idea why they might be here?"

He tilted his head, considering. "It's possible Lucifer slaughtered this entire town. That would be a reason for so many. But if they were here for that...Ellen, you said Castiel said they were just standing around?"

"He didn't mention what they were doing," Ellen said. "But he didn't seem like he was tracking anything moving, so, yeah, probably they were just standing there."

"That's...atypical." He thought for a minute, then shook his head. "My guess would still be that there are so many because the entire town was killed," Judas said. "Maybe it was for a ritual, or maybe he was bored or frustrated. Though I'm not sure why the reapers weren't active, if that's the case."

"Well, that's comforting," Ellen said, after an uneasy beat.

Judas shrugged apologetically. "I'm sorry I don't have a better answer. But I highly doubt reapers gather for..." He trailed off.

"Something wrong?" Dean asked.

"There you are," a woman's voice called, before Judas could answer.

"Meg!"

Judas shifted his grip on the spear, bringing the blade low, with the shaft across his body for protection, looking just about everywhere except directly at Meg.

"What do you see?" Ellen asked him, in an undertone, while the boys were talking with the demon, keeping her busy.

"Hellhounds," he answered, grimly. "A lot of them. Do you see anywhere we can retreat?"

"There's a hardware store, about a block back," Jo supplied. "Think we can make it?"

"They're fast," was all he said.

"When have you known us to ever make anything easy?" Dean was saying, before firing off a shot and yelling, "RUN!"

The five of them fell back towards the hardware store.

"Sam, three o'clock!" Judas yelled.

The taller Winchester turned and shot where Judas indicated, rewarded by an angry yelp.

"Thanks," he said.

Judas, the only one who could see the hellhounds, stayed outwardly calming, continuing to call out targets. He was also the only one without a long-distance weapon, and forced to stay on the defensive, laying around him with his spear. Its shaft broke in two in less than a minute, drastically reducing Judas' already-limited range. He shifted position and dodged around something--probably the hellhound who'd broken his spear--slashing at it as he went by. He was just a hair too fast to be entirely natural.

And it was probably a trick of the light, but Ellen could have sworn she saw Judas' eyes flash silver.

_That can't be good._

Then Dean went down, and it only took twenty seconds for everything to go to hell.

Jo shot the hellhound off him, then got knocked down and mauled by another.

Contrary to expectation, time didn't stretch, with each aching fraction of a second lasting forever until Jo hit the ground, blood spraying all the way up to her face. Instead, it was fast, and messy, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.

Jo screamed, followed by Ellen an instant later. Dean, face grim and set, dove for her, with Sam following to cover them both.

Judas stayed with Ellen, whose focus was completely on her injured daughter, trying to keep her from getting hurt as well. He called out targets to Sam, using what was left of his spear to help him cover the rest of their retreat.

Finally--too damn late--they made it to the store and slammed the doors.


	6. Part 1, Chapter 6: Carthage, Missouri

**Chapter 6**  
 _Carthage, Missouri_

 

They'd secured and salted all the entrances. Dean had found an old radio, and had managed to get through to Bobby.

Ellen stayed with her daughter, trying to keep the bleeding under control and desperately holding back panic. It was _bad._ Even under the best of circumstances, with the right supplies and someone who knew how to deal with wounds this deep...

_It's okay, baby, I'll get you through this, I'll figure something out, I promise._

"May I?"

Ellen looked up at Judas. She hadn't even noticed him joining them.

"This isn't my first war."

She nodded, and removed her hands.

He slid in to kneel next to Jo, studying the slashes in her side. "This may feel a little strange, I'm sorry," he warned her, then settled in with his hands hovering about a half-inch over her side. Almost absentmindedly, he started humming, a soft, lilting tune that sounded as old as the hills. A warm, gentle white light spread from his hands over her side, and the wounds sealed over, seamlessly, as if she had never been mauled.

"Oh, my God," Ellen whispered.

He stopped humming and sat back on his heels, shaking his head as if to clear it. "You should retreat," he warned Jo, slightly out of breath. "I sealed everything, but I couldn't restore the blood you lost."

Jo nodded. "How did...? You're not..."

"Yeshua gave us gifts," he said, with a faint, bitter smile. "I never lost them."

Without waiting for a response--or maybe hoping to avoid further questions--he pushed himself up and went to check the salt lines on the windows.

"He's right," Ellen told Jo. "You and I are getting out of here."

For once, her daughter didn't argue. "We still need to get past the hellhounds," she said.

"We'll figure it out," Ellen said.

"We can't fight our way through them," Sam said. "Judas, how many did you say you saw?"

"At least a dozen," he answered. "Including the ones we wounded earlier, but that won't slow them for long."

Dean swore.

"What if we trapped them all in here, like that time with Henriksen?" Sam suggested. "No one's gonna be sticking around if they circle back, so it'll probably work this time..."

"We're in kind of tight quarters for that, unless--hey, Judas, you know an exorcism or something that works on hellhounds?" Dean asked.

He shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. Nothing fast, not for a whole pack."

They were quiet for a minute, trying to come up with some other plan. Jo scanned the shelves, then said, "What if we built a bomb?"

"A bomb?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. We've got salt, propane, iron nails...we might be able to slow 'em down long enough for you guys to get to that farm, and for me and Mom to get back to our car."

"Maybe," he said. "But we'd have to trap them in here, and I don't think we can rig a remote with enough range for us to get clear."

"And they'd probably follow us outside anyways," Ellen said. "They've got our scents now, and they'll never give up."

"Unless someone stays as bait," Judas said, quietly.

"Don't be stupid," Dean said. "We'll figure something else out. Something that _doesn't_ involve blowing one of us up."

"I could do it," he offered.

"No way."

"That'll kill you," Sam added, hard on Dean's heels.

Judas smiled slightly. "I can't die."

"Seriously?"

He nodded. "My coins are still out there, and while they endure, I endure."

"Even if that's true," Dean said, "you'll still _explode_. People don't typically bounce back from that."

"Don't worry about that part." Judas' eyes flared silver, like they had earlier out in the street. "I was sired by an angel." He took a breath, and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they had returned to normal. "I won't be able to get completely clear, not if I want to lure enough of them in to buy you the space you need, but I'm fast enough that I won't be completely deconstructed."

"...I don't like this," Dean said.

"I don't, either," he admitted. "I don't like pain. But it could work, and unless you have a better plan..."

"He's right, Dean," Ellen said, reluctantly. She didn't like having to support Judas volunteering to blow himself up, especially not after he'd saved her daughter's life. But he seemed pretty sure he'd be okay in the long run, and they didn't exactly have any other options.

"If we're gonna do this, we need to get started," Jo said. "The salt lines won't hold them for long."

"...fine," Dean said.

The five of them got to work right away. Sam, Dean, Ellen and Judas grabbed everything that might be even remotely useful off the shelves, and Jo started on the wiring as soon as they handed it to her.

"You know, you're not at all what I expected," Ellen said, after making sure she and Judas were relatively alone in a corner, dumping nails into buckets.

He smiled slightly at her. "Which part?"

She smiled back. "Most of it, to be honest. From what the boys said, you don't even want to be here."

Judas shook his head. "It's...more complicated than that." He poured salt into the bucket, then dragged another over to start filling. "Besides, I learned a long time ago that I never get what I want. Not really."

She nodded, hesitated, then said, "I have to ask."

"About Jerusalem?" He looked away. "I was wondering when one of you would."

"I know it's probably not something you like to remember, but..." Someone had to, if only to reconcile what he'd done with everything they'd seen from him today. And Ellen figured she'd be the least unpleasant person to do it.

"It's not like it's something I can forget," he said. He shifted uneasily, watching the salt pour out of the bag. "I just..." He trailed off, and she waited. If she pushed him now, he'd close off again. And this was likely to be the only chance they'd have to learn his side of the story. She wanted to know that, wanted to know how one of history's most notorious traitors had become the man who saved her daughter's life and volunteered to blow himself up to make sure it stuck.

Finally, he took a deep breath, and tied off the salt bag, reaching for the nails. Without looking up again, he said, "I suppose I do owe you some answers."

"You don't owe us anything," Ellen said.

He blinked up at her, clearly surprised.

She smiled at him, but didn't elaborate.

For a long moment, he was silent, then softly asked, "Would you believe me if I told you I didn't mean it?"

"You saved my daughter," she reminded him. "Hell, I'll believe just about anything you say."

Judas smiled briefly, then sighed and looked away again. "I was...please understand, I make no excuses for what I did."

She nodded. "What happened?"

"Before I'd ever even heard of...of Yeshua, I was a rebel, against Roman authority," he said. "Mostly I translated and decoded intercepted dispatches, identified targets, that sort of thing. But I did, from time to time, fight as well. And when we got to Jerusalem..." He trailed off, staring down at his hands, which had stopped moving. "I understand mobs, Ellen. I even manipulated a few, when the situation called for it. Our freedom, our national identity, was so important to me, until...until I found something else that was even more valuable. And, by the time we got there..." He took a deep breath. "Well, new doctrines often cause unrest. Between us, and Rome, and..."

"Jerusalem was a powder keg," she finished for him.

He nodded. "Exactly. And I knew...I knew that he could all too easily become a target. So I started trying to work out how to get him out of sight, until things calmed a little. The rest of us, we could disappear without help--well, without overt help, it wouldn't be easy, we _were_ visible, to a point--but Yeshua...Yeshua would need someone to shelter him."

"And that's why you went to the priests?"

He didn't answer for a while, staring determinedly down at the bag of nails and forcing himself to start moving again. "I was a faithful man. Faith, and nationality, and freedom, and Yeshua...it was all tied up in my head. They were supposed to be...I thought they would feel the same. I thought I could trust them," he finally said. "They...they assured me that they wanted to contain the fallout as much as I did. For the good of everyone."

"And the money?" Which was the one thing that didn't add up, with the story he told.

"For the rest of us, or so they led me to believe," he said. "To hide." He laughed a little. "I should have known better. I'm not...I'm not stupid, or I don't think I am. I mean, I'm usually not that naive, I just..." He sighed. "I thought I could trust them." He shook his head. "When I realized..." His hand drifted up to his neck. "Well, you know what happened next."

"But you didn't die," she said.

"No," he replied. "My daughter, Miriam...she found me, she cut me down. And I...when I woke up, and I couldn't fix it, and I couldn't even make restitution...I couldn't face it, or my old friends, or...or what I'd forced my daughter to see. So I ran. I ran, and I ran, and I kept running. I never wanted to stop running."

She touched his arm lightly. "I'm sorry."

He just shook his head.

"What was your daughter like?" Ellen asked.

Some of the tension left his shoulders, just like she'd hoped it would, once he started talking about Miriam. "Very smart," Judas answered. "Pretty. Brave, and reckless. She ran away to find me, after I left to follow Yeshua. I was...it was good to see her, but I was so angry with her for leaving home."

Ellen laughed. "I hear that."

"She wanted to make sure I was all right. Like I said, brave and reckless. She was actually a lot like..." He trailed off, then shook his head. "A lot like your daughter, come to think of it."

"Is that why you were singing, before?" It had sounded like a lullabye, and if Miriam was anything like Jo--well, it explained a lot.

He flushed. "I'm sorry, it was...I didn't realize I was doing it."

"It's all right." She smiled at him again.

"It was," he admitted. "Why I was singing, I mean. I used to sing to Miriam, sometimes, when she was little. I wish...I miss that, sometimes."

Ellen nodded. "They grow up fast."

"They do."

"How old was she, when...?"

"Twenty," he answered. "I don't..." He sighed. "I lost track of a lot of things, after Jerusalem. I never did find out what kind of life she had."

"I'm sorry," Ellen said. "You must miss her."

He smiled faintly. "Every day."

"Okay, I think we're set, if you are," Sam said.

"Right," Judas said, visibly grateful for the interruption. He stood up and dragged the last of the buckets in line.

Dean helped Jo stand and find her balance. "You good?" he asked, softly.

She nodded, and smiled briefly at him. "Yeah."

"I'll give you a count of sixty," Judas said, taking the detonator from Sam and turning it over in his hands. "You'll need to get clear by then. And don't waste time looking for me, you can't afford it."

"What changed your mind, about helping us?" Sam asked.

Judas shrugged. "This is something that hurts no one but me, and it's something that I know will help you. Not like what you asked me before."

"We need to go," Ellen said. "They won't keep circling forever."

He gave her a sad little half-smile. "It's been...quite a day. I wish we could have met under better circumstances."

"When this is over, come find me," she said, offering her hand. "I owe you a beer, and then some."

He clasped her hand briefly in acknowledgement, then let go and nodded to the rest of them. "Be careful. All of you."

She nodded, hoping he'd heard the hidden message there-- _if you ever need anything, anything at all, find me and I'll help_ \--and started picking her way over to the roof hatch, knowing the others were following close behind.

"Sam?" Judas said.

He stopped, and half-turned back.

"You asked me, earlier, about redemption," Judas said, quietly. "This is where I find it, or what little I can. Not as a Weapon--as a shield."

Sam blinked. "Why are you--"

Judas shook his head. "You should go. Luck to you."

"Yeah. Thanks. Um. Same to you."

"Remember. Sixty seconds."

"Sixty seconds."

Dean went up first, then, with Sam and Ellen boosting from below, hauled Jo up behind him. The four of them scrambled across to the next roof, as fast as Jo could move.

"You can get her to your car?" Dean asked.

Ellen nodded. "Yeah. Just help us get to the ground, I can take it from there. Good luck."

"Yeah, you too."

The four of them found the fire escape and started make their way down--Dean first, then Jo, with Ellen's help, and Sam bringing up the rear.

Right on time, just as Sam hit the ground, the hardware store exploded.


	7. Part 1, Chapter 7: Carthage, Missouri

**Chapter 7**   
_Carthage, Missouri_

 

Judas woke with glass in his hair and nails in his legs, bound tight enough that, even if it hadn't hurt like hell, he probably wouldn't have been able to move. The room was dark, and smelled faintly of ozone laid over damp, rotting wood. What little he could see seemed to be in a state of general disrepair and decay, abandoned. For a few moments, he thought--though he knew it wouldn't last--that he'd been left alone.

Until he saw Lucifer himself, leaning casually against the opposite wall, watching him.

He would have pulled away if he could. He tried, he tried as hard as he could, fighting the pain and the leather straps and not daring to look away from the rotting vessel with its broken halo.

Lucifer smiled, and it was gentle, and it sent fingers of ice down Judas' spine.

"I don't want to hurt you," the fallen Archangel said.

Judas didn't move, or answer.

Lucifer pushed himself away from the wall and approached. "I just want to understand," he said. "Why are you fighting for them?"

Once again, he kept his silence. _Maybe I'm fast enough. If I can wriggle free, if I can get enough range of motion...his vessel is dying already. If he can feel anything, he's already hurting, what I do...it wouldn't hurt him that much more, would it?_

"After everything they did to you. You did everything you were supposed to, and still..." Lucifer shook his head. " _You_ became the monster. I don't understand how you can bear it."

Judas looked away, swallowing down anger he thought he'd buried a long time ago, focusing on tracing the path of one of the cracks in the ceiling instead.

"My heart breaks for you," he continued. "Truly, it does. Everything you've endured...it should never have been like that."

 _Don't engage. Don't let him in. The moment you engage, the moment you let him in, he will own you. Change the conversation, make it about--make it anything but_ this.

"Please don't," Judas whispered. He took a deep breath, and looked directly at Lucifer again. "Save us both some time."

Lucifer arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

 _Here goes nothing._ "I know what you're trying to do," he said. "And it...it isn't working. I won't give you what you want." Judas had learned, over the centuries, how to deceive people without outright lying. The trick of it was relying on the absolute truth of an instant in time, because truth was far more fluid than those not bound to it ever really grasped. And, in this moment, what he said _was_ the truth.

But if Lucifer didn't believe it, it would soon become a lie.

The Archangel just smiled slightly. "And what is it that you think I want?"

"Me," Judas said. "If not my service, then my silence."

He inclined his head, acknowledging the point. "Why won't you give me that, Judas?"

"Which?"

"Either."

"I never intended to get involved," Judas admitted.

"But you are now."

He nodded. "For better or for worse."

"But you won't fight for me."

"You say you understand my pain," Judas said. "And I believe you. No one...no one else _could._ But I let go of my bitterness a long time ago, sir."

And he had. Mostly. After all, humanity hadn't given him any punishment he wouldn't have subjected himself to a thousand times over, if he'd been able to. Even if he hated the way his name had become the worst kind of insult. And Heaven may have been corrupt beyond all reason, and God may have been capricious and cruel, His every gift demanding a terrible price in return...all right, yes, Judas _had_ done his best to let go of his bitterness, but it was never really far away.

And yet, despite all of that hurt, there was too much good left, too much kindness, on Earth and even in Heaven, to cast it all aside. Especially not when it meant risking-- _don't go down that road, if you do, he'll follow and start asking questions._

"I won't declare war on Heaven. Not for you."

"I can give you justice," Lucifer pointed out.

Judas gave a sickly little laugh. "I don't deserve it."

"I say that you do."

"Even if you're right," he said, "I don't want it."

Lucifer blinked. "What do you want, then?"

"Nothing you can give me."

He folded his arms and arched an eyebrow. "Try me."

"I want...peace." He closed his eyes, and took a deep, shaky breath. "And I want Yeshua."

Lucifer sighed. "It doesn't have to be like this, Judas. You could make it so much easier on yourself."

He managed a little smile. "Nothing worth having ever comes easy."

Lucifer inclined his head, and reached out, his hand only a breath away from Judas' face.

_Just a little closer, and I could--_

A shock of frigid air hit his face, cold enough to sear his flesh. He jerked, gasping, unable to even scream.

It only lasted a second, and when it was over, his face felt...off-balance. _Wrong._

Lucifer turned to the door. "Meg?" he called.

The dark-haired demon host, the one who had commanded the hellhounds in the street, joined them. "Yes, Father?"

"You and the others can play with him now," he said, smiling that same, gentle half-smile he'd used on Judas. "Let me know when he's ready to change his mind."

It had worked. He'd bought it.

_Now I just have to endure this._

Lucifer was gone, leaving Judas alone the demon, who closed her fist. Something twisted, deep inside him, and he screamed.

_I just have to hold on..._

 

**_End Part 1_  **


	8. Part 2: Sing Me Your Songs, Chapter 1: Somewhere in Minnesota

**_Part 2: Sing Me Your Songs_ **

**Chapter 1**  
 _Somewhere in Minnesota_

 

The diner Sam and Dean had stopped at for breakfast, two days after their trip to Heaven, didn't stick out much. The decor was almost desperately cheerful--yellow and white, but fading just enough that you could see the grime underneath. It was in a one-horse town a few hours out of Minneapolis, and the waitress wasn't even particularly hot.

So last thing Sam and Dean expected to happen was for _Gabriel_ , of all people, to wander over to them, sliding into the booth next to Dean as if he had every right to be there.

"Hey, guys!"

"What the hell!"

"How did you even find us?" Sam asked. "We're supposed to be--"

"Warded?" Gabriel said, then waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, you are. Your _car_ , on the other hand, isn't. You're just lucky no one else is trying to track that wonderfully conspicuous beauty of yours."

Dean glowered at him. "What do you want, Gabriel?"

He grinned and drummed his fingers on the table for a few seconds before answering. "I need you to do something for me."

"Yeah, we know," Dean said. "Play our roles, we get it."

"Our answer's still 'screw you,' by the way," Sam added.

Gabriel shook his head. "Not that." He thought for a minute, absently trailing his finger through some spilled syrup. "Well, actually, yes that, but something else first." He licked the syrup off his finger, then pulled a vial of blood and an oddly familiar coin out of thin air, and set them on the table. "I want you to summon Judas for me."

" _What?_ "

He shrugged. "Well, _I_ can't do it--only a human can. Relax, before you ask, I didn't hurt anyone for the third blood draw. Guy I picked just cut himself shaving, he didn't even know I was there. But he checks off the right box, so you're all set."

"Good to know," Dean said, after another moment of incredulous silence. " _Why?_ "

"Why what?"

"Why do you want us to summon freaking Judas?"

Gabriel studied them for a minute. "I'll tell you what. You do this for me, I'll give you five minutes of honest conversation. You can ask me whatever you want--no lies, no tricks. Five minutes, and all you have to do is summon one little Weapon. Oh, and stash him somewhere safe for a while."

"Yeah, that doesn't answer my question," Dean pointed out.

The Archangel rolled his eyes. "Your five minutes don't start until you agree and he's been summoned."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look. "Judas did kind of save our asses back in Carthage," Sam pointed out, quietly. "Plus, we can ask a lot of questions in five minutes."

"Yeah, if he's not--" Dean looked over at Gabriel. "Dude, could you back off so we can talk about this?"

"I'm not screwing with you," Gabriel insisted. "Totally on the level."

"Just...give us a couple minutes."

He sighed. "Fine." He disappeared.

"I do _not_ trust this whole 'I'm totally on the level' game he's playing," Dean said.

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "He's up to _something,_ I just can't figure out what he gains by being direct. For once. "

"Does it really matter, if we know he's gonna screw us in the end anyway?"

"I don't know."

"I mean, the _last_ time we tried talking to him sure as hell ended well."

"True." Sam considered for a minute, studying the polka-dot wallpaper as if it would give him an idea. "Maybe if we make sure we can bind him after, at least until we get away...we still have some holy oil, don't we?"

"Yeah, in the trunk." Dean fiddled with his coffee mug, eyeing the swirl Gabriel had drawn in the syrup. He sighed, and looked back up at Sam. "You seriously want to do this?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't trust Gabriel. But we could learn a lot in five minutes, even if we have to dig through a couple dozen layers of bullshit to get at anything important. And Judas _did_ blow himself up to save us."

"Yeah, I guess," Dean said. "All right, let's figure out where Gabriel went and let him know we're in."

"Awesome," Gabriel said, brightly, reappearing next to Dean.

"...were you just sitting there, invisible, the whole time?" he asked.

"Maybe," he answered, then scooped up the coin and the vial he'd brought.

"Don’t do that. Ever again."

Gabriel smirked, and made no promises. "Anyway, you said you're in, so...let's go somewhere private and do this thing."

Dean glanced over at Sam, who just shrugged. It was sort of obvious what he thought. Especially now, they needed to pick their battles, and they'd already picked where they wanted to stand on this one. For the moment, they needed to follow up on this opportunity. They'd probably never get another one like it. Picking a fight with Gabriel over his spying would have to wait.

He made a face, but he knew Sam was probably right on this one. He tossed some cash on the table. "Fine. Whatever. Lead the way."


	9. Part 2, Chapter 2: Somewhere in Minnesota

**Chapter 2**  
 _Somewhere in Minnesota_

 

They made their way outside, to an alley that Gabriel insisted he could hide from the rest of the world for as long as they needed it.

It was raining, which made it a pain in the ass to clear enough space and get the circle set up, until finally Gabriel got tired of waiting and did it himself. He put the coin in the middle and counted out the drops from the vial he'd brought, and then turned expectantly to the boys.

Dean rolled his eyes and cut across his palm, holding it over the circle while he counted drops.

Sam, across the circle, followed suit, then glanced over at Gabriel before speaking.

"Yehudah bar Simon. Yehudah bar Simon. Yehudah bar Simon."

Just as before, in Bobby's house, the circle began to hum, the coin to glow, the blood to spin.

"You gonna tell us why you want this?" Dean asked.

Gabriel smiled. "Do you _really_ want to start your five minutes now?"

Before Dean could answer, the spinning blood resolved and the glow died. Judas was inside the circle, curled up on the ground in fetal position, naked. His back was a mass of blood and ashes, and his hands and feet had been crushed so badly they looked more like pancakes.

It got worse.

The bottom half of his face was _missing_ , flesh stripped all the way down to the bone.

"Holy crap," Dean breathed.

Judas shifted a little, whimpering.

"Holy crap!" Sam echoed. "Is he...?"

Judas, confirming that he was, in fact, conscious, opened his eyes and immediately locked onto Gabriel. He tried to say something, but it was unintelligible. Too much of his mouth was missing.

"Shh..." Gabriel said, kneeling next to him. He ran a hand, glowing white, over Judas' face, healing as he went.

"Abba, I'm sorry," Judas choked out.

"It's okay," he said. "Don't talk." He finished healing Judas--leaving scars, for some reason, including a vivid bruise running across his neck--held on his chest for a minute, then finally rested his fingers on his forehead, making him sleep. "Okay, he'll be out for a while. Like...I don't know, a day, maybe a week, it's hard to tell with him. Remember you're taking him somewhere safe. I warded him, so you don't need to worry about him being tracked. Also your five minutes start now."

"Okay, what the hell was _that_ about?" Sam started, after a few seconds of startled silence.

Gabriel arched an eyebrow. "Hey, don't look at me. _You_ guys are the ones who dragged him out of hiding and into this mess."

"Why do you even care?"

"I don't--" He sighed. "The kid has a tendency to get pretty epically screwed. I feel bad for him, that's all. Look, do you _really_ want to spend your five minutes asking me about Judas? Come on, guys, you can do better than that."

"How about you stop stalling?" Dean said.

"I'm not!" Gabriel protested. "Just giving you some friendly advice."

"...yeah, you're stalling," Sam said. "Which is cheating. Which you said you wouldn't do."

Gabriel glowered at him. " _Fine._ What's your next question?"

"Can we stop this? Is there any chance at all?" Dean asked.

"No."

"We're not asking realistic chances, we know we're past that," Sam said. "We're talking one in a million, Hail Mary kind of deal."

"You know, I met Mary," Gabriel said. "I got to tell her about the baby and all. Sweet girl. Total babe."

"You're stalling again."

"Well, you're asking stupid questions."

"Hey, you don't get to make fun of our questions," Dean said. "That was never part of the deal."

"I never promised not to make fun of you," Gabriel pointed out. "I just promised not to lie. And I didn't. Mary was hot."

"Enough about Mary," Sam said. "What about weapons?"

"What about them?" he asked.

"Are there any that would work? Like...we had the Colt before, but it didn't kill him. Something like that, only...?"

"It actually works?" Gabriel finished for him, then tilted his head. "Maybe, but nothing you can get at. I mean, Heaven's got a freaking arsenal, but good luck getting to it without going there, and having an in-favor angel on your side. I mean, if you _could_ get there and you _could_ talk an angel into helping you out, sure. There's a few. And, I mean, there's Archangel blades, but I'm sure as hell not giving you mine and there’s no way you’re getting one of the others."

"So, basically, no," Dean said.

"Sorry," Gabriel said.

"What about omens? Are there any specific ones we can track?" Sam asked

"Yeah," Gabriel said. "Look for weird temperature fluctuations, in really small areas. Like, a few city blocks small."

"Anything else?"

He shrugged. "Not much that's specific enough that you can be sure it's Lucifer. Especially if he decides to cover his tracks for a while. The temperature thing he can't really hide, though, so it's your best bet."

"Is there _anyone_ we can reach out to who can stop this?" Sam asked. "With or without Heaven's arsenal."

"No," Gabriel said. "Well, other than a couple people who don't give a shit and a couple people who you really, really don't want to work with anyway."

"Like who?"

He thought for a minute. "Well, there's a few people deep in Heaven's lockup who _might_ stand a chance, on a good day, if only 'cause no one will expect them. And _maybe_ one or two of them would play ball and not set things on fire after just to watch 'em burn, but you probably don't want to risk it."

"Probably not," Dean agreed.

"Is there anything _you_ can do anything to stop it?" Sam asked.

Gabriel stared at them. "Like what?"

"Well, you're an Archangel, too, aren't you?" Dean pointed out. "With an Archangel blade and everything."

"Are you suggesting that I _kill_ my brothers?"

"And what if we are?" Dean asked.

"Well, mostly Lucifer," Sam said, at the same time.

"No! I'm not gonna do that! Even if I managed to pull it off--which is a big--just-- _no_."

"So, short version--you can do it, you just won't," Dean said.

He glared at them. "Your time's up."

"No way, you don't get to dodge--" Sam started.

"Yes. I do," Gabriel cut him off. "It's been fun, boys, really, but for now, screw you. You bought five minutes, you got your five freaking minutes. I'm done."

He snapped his fingers and disappeared before either of them could argue.


	10. Part 2, Chapter 3: Somewhere in Minnesota

**Chapter 3**  
 _Somewhere in Minnesota_

 

"So, what do you think that was really all about?" Sam asked.

"Man, who the hell knows, with Gabriel?" Dean replied.

Sam shrugged. "...you know, we should have recorded that."

"You think?"

"It'd make it easier to read between the lines, maybe figure out what Gabriel didn't want us to know."

Dean thought for a minute. "Point. Too late now, I guess."

"Yeah." Sam paused. "You know, the weird part is, Judas said his coins were with someone he trusted, right?"

"If you say so."

"So obviously, he trusts Gabriel, since he had one," Sam went on.

"Or he missed one," Dean pointed out.

"You think? I mean, there's only thirty, right? And they're pretty damn important to him, since they're keeping him alive and everything. Plus, this would be the second one he'd lost track of, counting the one we used before, and I think he's smarter than that, or at least more cautious." He sighed. "But I guess that would still make a lot more sense, if he had lost two of them. I mean, I did some digging on nephilim--"

"On what now?"

"Angel-human hybrids," he clarified. "Anyway, I did some digging, and they're not exactly prized. The word 'abomination' came up like six or seven times in one paragraph. So there's really not much reason for Judas to trust him. Or for Gabriel to help him, even if he did just steal a coin for...I don't know, because it was shiny?"

"Well, Gabriel told us he ran away 'cause of family infighting, right? He said didn't want to see anyone he cared about get hurt. I mean, abomination or not, your bastard nephew's still family, and probably the only one he can reach out to at all. And from all we've seen of Judas, he _did_ get screwed over but good. I don't think Gabriel was lying about why he wanted to help him," Dean said.

"I guess." Sam dumped Judas--still out cold, now wrapped in a spare blanket--in the backseat, watched him for a minute, then shook his head. "We should've followed up with him, after Carthage."

"We both thought he'd run off," Dean pointed out. "Not like he was eager to help in the first place. And he told us not to look."

"I'm pretty sure he just meant right then and there, not after we all got out."

Dean looked away. "Yeah, maybe."

"He came through for us, in the end. And look where that got him."

"I know." Dean sighed. "But we didn't really have a way to find him 'til now anyway--he hid the other coin, remember?"

"Yeah, true."

"Anyway. We'll drop him at Bobby's, he should be safe there 'til he wakes up."

"Yeah," Sam said. "At least as long as we have him, Michael and Lucifer don't."

"Which is probably why Gabriel left the coin with us," Dean said, pulling it out for another look.

"In case this happens again," Sam finished. "You want to hold on to it, or you want me to?"

"I got it," Dean said, slipping it back into his pocket. "And, on the upside, we know a few things that we didn't before, including that he's important to Gabriel for whatever reason."

Sam stared at him. "We're not keeping him as a hostage."

"Did I say that?" He hadn't meant that, not exactly. Well, okay, sort of--the possibility was there and this was _Gabriel_ they were talking about. Anything that could help them figure out how that bastard ticked had to be a good thing.

"Look, I want to strong-arm Gabriel into helping us--or at least letting us borrow his blade or something--as much as you do, but...come on."

"We don't exactly have a lot of other assets right now," Dean pointed out. "At least as long as we have him we can keep Gabriel from _actively_ trying to bone us again."

Sam made a face, but didn't argue with that.

"Which...huh," Dean said. "If he _does_ actually give a crap about Judas, Gabriel has to know that. Just leaving him with us, he gives us that option."

"So, you think...what, Judas is a peace offering?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. Otherwise, we're kind of a weird choice to keep Judas safe."

"Unless he knows everyone would think that, which might make us the best choice."

Dean made a face. "Yeah, let's not think too hard about that part." Just posing the question made him uneasy, on top of being headache-inducing. So much for figuring out what the hell Gabriel wanted. He was sort of sorry he'd brought up that part of it at all. But thinking out loud, especially with Sam to bounce ideas off of, usually got better results. He shook his head. "Let's just head back to Bobby's, we'll deal with the rest later. You should probably call him, let him know we're coming."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, then made sure Judas was secure and got into the passenger seat.

While Dean got them on the road, Sam made the call. "Hey, Bobby, it's me. ...Yeah, we're okay. Um, look, we can go over details when we get there, but we've got Judas with us and we need to hide him at your place for a while, is that okay? ...Yeah. ...Sort of. ...Okay. ...Probably three or four hours? ...Yeah, we'll see you soon. Bye."

Once Sam hung up, Dean turned on some music and they settled in for the drive.


	11. Part 2, Chapter 4: Sioux Falls, South Dakota

**Chapter 4**  
 _Sioux Falls, South Dakota_

 

"Hello...?"

Bobby jumped about a mile--or, would have, a few months ago. He turned to see Judas in the doorway, unsteady but on his feet. The fact that the only clothes they'd had to put him in were several sizes too big--Judas was much shorter than all of them, and skinny to boot--didn't exactly help him look better. "You're awake," he said, when he realized he'd just been staring for a few seconds.

Judas nodded. "Not for long. Less than an hour, I think, I'm still hazy..."

"You should probably sit before you fall over, then," Bobby said, maneuvering out from behind his desk.

Judas nodded, but didn't move. "How long...?"

"About a week."

Judas blinked. "He only had me for a week? It felt longer..."

"Oh. No, sorry. I meant you've been here for a week. He had you for months."

"Oh." Judas finally found a chair, and curled up in it very carefully, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on them, watching Bobby with a faint, enigmatic frown. "How did I...who brought me here?"

Bobby blinked. "Sam and Dean. Were you expecting someone different?"

Judas shook his head. "No, not really. I just...wanted to make sure. I'm trying to piece things together, without..." He shivered a little. "I just wanted to make sure."

"Gabriel didn't stick around, after pulling you out, if that's what you were asking."

Judas gave him a faint half-smile. "More or less. You're good at this."

"Been doing it a while," Bobby said. The silence between them stretched awkwardly for a few seconds, then he asked, "You want a beer or something?"

"Thank you, but water would probably be better," Judas said. "I don't drink very much, and I just woke up."

Bobby nodded, and wheeled over to get and fill a glass for him. He could feel Judas tracking him, and it wasn't hard to figure out why. Between the defensive, closed-off body language, and where he'd been for the last few months... "How are you doing?"

"Tired, mostly," Judas said. "I _was_ healed."

"Never seen an angel-healing leave scars."

Judas touched his neck lightly. "This can't be erased."

"That's not what I'm talking about," Bobby said.

"Ah." Judas distracted himself with the water for a moment. "I am a...special case," he finally said, carefully.

It didn't take someone as smart as Bobby to realize Judas was hiding something. He decided not to press it, though, not until he had a better idea exactly whose side the Weapon was on. Last thing he wanted was a semi-friendly being of uncertain power flipping out in his living room.

Judas, probably grateful he wasn't being questioned, changed the subject. "Thank you, by the way," he said.

"For what?"

"For your hospitality." He shifted a little, visibly embarrassed. "I know I wasn't exactly...friendly the last time we met, and still you sheltered me."

Bobby shrugged. "You saved Jo and Ellen. Hell, probably the boys, too."

Judas shook his head. "That's..." He sighed. "I like being able to help people. And I seem to remember unnecessarily complaining about you dragging me into it at the time."

"Well, maybe Cas was right, and we shouldn't've done that."

"Still, I'm grateful. I just wish I could...repay you somehow." He frowned for a minute, considering, then blinked and uncurled a little. "I could heal you, I think."

Bobby blinked. He certainly hadn't expected _that_ kind of offer, no matter how grateful Judas was for a safe place to stay after several months as Lucifer's special guest. "You think?"

He shrugged, and looked away. "It's...harder, the older and more complex the injury is. I wasn't born with the ability, it was a gift. I have limits."

Judas couldn't lie. If he'd offered, it had to be within his limits. Or, at least, he had to think there was a damn good chance it was within his limits--he'd said he couldn't knowingly lie, which wasn't the same as being wrong. Despite himself, Bobby felt a faint hint of hope.

On the other hand, two-thousand-year-old unkillable half-angel or not, the man had just spent the last week unconscious in Bobby's panic room. He'd only been up--and not exactly steady, at that--for an hour or so. "You sure you can? You still seem sort of..."

Judas looked up, then smiled faintly and shook his head. "Don't worry about that. At worst, I'll have to impose on your hospitality a little while longer."

That shoved the rest of Bobby's objections clean out of his head. Judas wanted to help, he thought he was capable of it, and was sure it wouldn't do him any kind of serious damage. "Hell, if you can fix my legs, you can stay as long as you like."

He nodded, then uncurled and crossed the room and knelt behind Bobby. "This may feel a little strange, I'm sorry," he said.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then a soft warmth spread from the base of Bobby's spine, spiderwebbing all through the lower half of his body. It only lasted a few seconds, but after it faded, he pinched his thigh, as hard as he could, and _felt_ the bruise forming.

"I'll be damned," he whispered.

He turned to see where Judas was--he could twist and turn again, _hell_ it felt good--to see that the smaller man had discreetly fainted.

Bobby got up--actually _got up_ \--to check on Judas. There wasn't any blood on his scalp, and it didn't take more than a couple seconds to find his pulse. It was faint, and not entirely steady, but there. The boys had said that Judas had told them he couldn't die, and Judas himself insisted he'd be okay, but it was still nice to confirm.

Now he had to figure out the best way to get him back into the panic room until he woke up again. Judas was too damn valuable a game piece to leave out in the open. Even if the panic room wasn't necessarily safe against angels, it was still more secure than the living room. Besides, Judas was supposed to be warded, and Bobby owed him--for Ellen and Jo and probably the boys, and now his legs on top of it. And, since he had only _just_ been healed, he didn't want to risk carrying Judas back to the panic room by hand. Too easy to fall and hurt both of them.

Finally, he decided to just drag him back down by the shoulders--keeping his head elevated so it wouldn't take any hits. He made his way down the stairs, slow and careful, watching for any signs that Judas was waking up.

No such luck, but at least he seemed to be about the same status as when Bobby had dragged him out of the living room. "You're lucky you ain't heavy," he muttered, after dumping him back on the bed. "And...thanks. Real glad we managed to find you."

More than glad. No one had died, he'd been healed, and Judas was drained but still breathing.

 _Nice to have a good day, for once,_ Bobby thought, as he made his way back upstairs. He knew it wouldn't last, of course, he wasn't stupid, but for the moment, he just held on to it--to this one good day.


	12. Part 2, Chapter 5: Sioux Falls, South Dakota

**Chapter 5**  
 _Sioux Falls, South Dakota_

 

Bobby was waiting for them on the front steps when Sam and Cas dragged Dean in. "Everyone okay?" he asked. Sam had called to fill him in on Dean's stupid, suicidal plan to say yes, so he figured it was better to check, even if everyone looked okay.

"Yeah, we're--" Sam cut himself off, frozen. "Bobby? You're...you're standing."

He grinned. "Yep."

"When did--no, nevermind, _how_ the hell did that happen?" Dean asked, apparently shocked out of whatever mental hole he'd talked himself into by the sight. Which was at least ninety percent of why Bobby hadn't said anything over the phone earlier.

"Judas healed me," Bobby said. "Yesterday. He woke up for a bit. Passed out again right after, but he seems okay."

"Where is he now?" Castiel asked.

"Back in the panic room," he said.

Castiel nodded.

"This is...wow, that was really nice of him," Sam said.

"He said he wanted to thank me for looking after him," Bobby said. Then, figuring the moment was fading, he said, "Come on in. We should talk."

'Talk' turned out to mean something along the lines of 'babysit Dean so he doesn't do anything stupid.'

And then 'babysit Adam and Dean at the same time,' which led to Dean being locked up in the panic room with Judas, because, as Sam put it, the house was full of flight risks.

Dean spent the first few minutes pacing and looking over at Judas every so often. Because it totally wasn't weird at all, being locked up with a dude who looked barely alive. Especially since the reasons he did were mostly tied to...

"Why do I feel like you're the only person in this freaking house that gets it?" he finally asked.

Judas, unsurprisingly, didn't move or answer.

Dean sighed, and sat down on the floor across from the cot. "I mean...you blew yourself up to save us, back in Carthage. You didn't have to do that, but you freaking volunteered. And you weren't near as desperate as..."

He shook his head. "And what you told Sam back there, about being a shield or whatever? That's part of it. Especially now that Adam's involved. I'm staring down the face of this thing, and I'm out of options. I can't save everyone, so I gotta save who I can, while I can. You get that, right?"

Judas remained silent, his breathing barely visible.

"Well, you're fun to talk to," Dean muttered.

He sat there for a few minutes, fiddling morosely with the end of one of his sleeves. It didn't take long for the silence, only broken by the fan creaking above them, started to wear on him. "Maybe things wouldn't be this bad if Gabriel would get off his ass and do something--I mean, what the hell have you got on him, anyway, to make him stick his neck out for you? He doesn't give a rat's ass about anyone else, that's for sure."

Still no answer, not that Dean really expected one. He got up to pace.

"You blew yourself up, you got captured and you held out, or at least I think you did--we'd probably know if you hadn't." Well, he was pretty sure they would, anyway. They didn't know the sum total of what Judas could do, but Cas had thought he'd be useful in Carthage. If Lucifer had broken him, he would sure as hell have used him by now. Given what Cas had hinted at and what they _did_ know about the Weapon, that probably would have been pretty damn obvious.

"And then we pull you out, and the first thing you do is fix Bobby--thank you for that, by the way; I'm sure he said it, but I should too, I guess--and pass out again. And you don't even _like_ us that much. And you put yourself through all that crap anyway, so I _know_ you get it. I just wish you'd freaking wake up and explain it to Sam and Bobby, 'cause maybe they'd listen if someone agreed with me."

Dean watched him breathe for a minute, as though that was actually going to work, and Judas would wake up, take his side, and get Sam and Bobby to let him out of the freaking house.

No such luck.

"This freaking sucks," Dean said, then sat down again to watch the fan and try to plot his escape.


	13. Part 2, Chapter 6: Sioux Falls, South Dakota

**Chapter 6**  
 _Sioux Falls, South Dakota_

 

_~~Bobby~~ Mr. Singer--_

_~~I want to apologize for leaving so abruptly~~ _

_~~I wish I could help you more, but~~ _

_~~The reason I'm leaving is because a few years ago, I~~ _

_~~I'm not doing this because I'm afraid of~~ _

_I never have been one for goodbyes--and, in any case, if I tried to do this face-to-face, I'm fairly certain you could talk me out of it. ~~And you'd be absolutely right to.~~ I know this is rude of me, and more than a little unfair, but I ~~have to leave~~ can't stay. I'm going back to Ohio, to ~~try to reclaim~~ see if I can pick up the pieces that I left behind ~~when you summoned me~~._

_I am grateful for your help, for retrieving me and for sheltering me as long as you did, and I don't bear you any ill will for pulling me out of my life and into the Apocalypse, and I am glad I was able to help you as far as I did. ~~I only wish I could~~ As far as I'm concerned, there are no debts between us, in either direction._

_That being said, if you ~~need me~~ are desperate and have exhausted every other option, you can contact me. Please don't summon me--I don't like being trapped. And  please don't reach out unless you are truly desperate. It's complicated, and some of it touches on secrets that aren't mine to share, so I can't ~~tell you~~ explain in detail, but I can't ~~continue helping~~ offer you any more aid than that. But if you do need me, my number is 937-555-4238. Call, and I ~~promise~~ will come unless I am unable._

_Luck to you,  
Judas_

Bobby swore for a solid minute, then crumpled up the letter and tossed it at the wall. He shouldn't be so damn surprised that Judas had run off, for all he'd been a hell of a lot friendlier after Gabriel and the boys had rescued him. They'd forced his hand to start with, and he'd wanted to clear debts. That had been the whole reason behind the healing.

But Bobby had still hoped that Judas had somehow changed his mind since then. And even if he hadn't, as much as none of them really liked the idea, Gabriel was still one hell of a wildcard. Judas was the only sort of leverage they had on him. Plus, with Judas in the wind, even warded, someone _else_ might get the same idea. The last thing they needed was yet another pissed-off Archangel actively working against them. Three out of four was bad enough, though Raphael at least was quiet about it.

He took a deep breath to calm down, then went over and retrieved the letter. He'd probably need that phone number eventually, one way or another. And he wanted to read it again, now that the initial flare of rage was past.

One thing became very clear, in picking out what Judas had tried to cross out and reading between the lines. He _wanted_ to help, but for whatever reason, he felt that he couldn't. And the reason wasn't something as simple as being ineffective and cruel, or he would have flat-out said.

Either way, there wasn't much Bobby could do to resolve the situation, at least not until he could get another couple of blood samples and summon Judas back again. If that was even the best way to handle it. Judas had said he hated being trapped, and Bobby probably couldn't afford to piss him off again. But the Weapon _had_ left a number...

He decided to go ahead and use it--leave a message, since the phone was an Ohio area code and if it was a cell, Judas obviously didn't have it on him. Maybe he could even talk him into coming back.

He dialed, and waited while the phone rang.

And then, much to his surprise, someone picked up.

"Hello?" a young woman's voice asked.

 _Balls._ "Hi, this is Mike Kayser. I'm looking for Professor Simon Goldstein, is he available?"

There was a short pause from the other end of the line. "How did you get this number?"

"A friend of a friend," Bobby said. "I've been doing some research, and I figured I could run a few things by him."

"When did you seen him?" she asked.

Bobby blinked. "I never met him. Like I said, I got his number from a friend. If he's not around, I can call back and leave--"

"Stop lying to me."

"What? I'm not--"

"Look, jackass," she snapped. "He's _missing,_ and he has been for _months._ So either you tell me how you got my cousin's private cell number, or I give yours to the cops. Your call."

 _Cousin?_ "I keep telling you, I got the number from a friend. I don't know how he got Professor Goldstein's private number, I just called the one I got."

She was silent for a long minute.

"Hello?"

"I told you to stop lying," she said, calmer now. "There are only three people, including Simon himself, who have this number. I know _I_ sure as hell didn't give it to you, and I'm pretty sure Door Number Two is even more invested in Simon's anonymity than he is himself. So, you have three seconds to tell me who the hell you are and where my cousin is, or I'll call the cops."

Bobby considered for half a second, then decided to call her bluff. "You said only three people have this number, right? Which means you probably didn't give it to whoever's investigating Goldstein's disappearance. Pretty sure you could get into a lot of trouble, withholding potential evidence like that. Plus, if you try to hand over my number, you're gonna have to explain why it's relevant. Good luck doing that without screwing yourself over, too. So, I guess the real question is, who the hell are _you_ , and why are you answering his private phone?"

"Which side are you on?" she asked, after taking that in for a few seconds.

"The hell are you talking about?" he asked.

"If you have this number, then you probably know who he really is, and what he can do. Which means you know what's going on," she said. "So, which side are you on?"

"I ain't on anyone's side." _Who the hell_ is _this girl?_

"Which means you're the jackass who kidnapped him last November," she said. "So, listen up. If you've hurt him--"

"I didn't," Bobby said.

"I don't believe you," she said, shortly. "Now, I try to be nice, so I won't come after you. But you know what I _am_ gonna do? I'm gonna go ahead and open Door Number Two. And the guy behind it? You bet your ass he _will_."

She hung up.

Bobby stared at the receiver for a long moment, then set it down. " _Balls._ " That had been a stupid move. Now he'd pissed off whoever the hell that girl was, not to mention whoever she meant by Door Number Two. Best case scenario, that was Gabriel, who knew Judas had been here and probably wouldn't smite him for letting Judas wander off.

On the other hand, when _Gabriel_ was the best case scenario...

Bobby picked the phone back up to call the boys. He needed to warn them that they might have yet another giant problem coming down the line.

 

**_End Part 2_  **


	14. Part 3: Prove to Me that You're Divine, Chapter 1: Sioux Falls, South Dakota

**Part 3: Prove to Me that You're Divine**

 

 **Chapter 1**

_Sioux Falls, South Dakota_

 

Judas waited at the bus stop, putting up a calm front he didn't feel. Leaving like he had, he'd burned bridges that he hadn't wanted to, but the alternative...the alternative was breaking a much more important promise.

 _In a few hours, I'll be gone. I'll go home, I'll pick up Fenrir, I'll disappear again._ Despite what he'd said in his note, he knew damn well that there was next to no chance of rebuilding his life, not after a months-long disappearance, not when he could neither lie nor give a satisfactory explanation for where he'd been. He'd still go, if only so he could give closure to his friends and colleagues, and take his dog with him. Abba had, thankfully, left him enough scars to tell a partial truth, pretend he didn't remember details, and let others draw their own conclusions, so closure _was_ something he could give. Assuming anyone actually wanted it.

He leaned back, closing his eyes and squelching this newest layer of pain and guilt down as far as he could. _I'm so sorry..._

"Hello, Judas."

He jumped and looked up, spotting a familiar dark-haired, blue-eyed man. "Hermes!" he said, smiling despite himself. "It's been..."

"Too long," Hermes said, grinning back and offering a hug. Judas accepted, warmly.

"What are you doing here? Last I heard, you were back in Athens."

"I was, until a few days ago," Hermes said, joining Judas on the bench. "How have you been?"

"I...get by," Judas hedged. "What about you, and the others?"

"I'm good. Hathor, too. We had coffee together the other day, she sends her love. Loki I haven't heard from since...well, Prague." Hermes smiled sheepishly. "Plus, I figure you'd know better than me, yeah?"

"I suppose," Judas said. "What about Kali?"

Hermes winced a little. "That's...actually why I came looking for you."

He tensed. "Did something happen?"

"Not yet," he said. "Kali called a meeting. Tomorrow night."

Judas blinked. "Of us? Why?"

Hermes shook his head. "No, not us. Hathor didn't know anything about it when we talked, and as for Loki...well, given how _that_ ended..."

Judas winced. "I remember."

"We _all_ remember."

"So...what meeting, then? Of whom?"

"Baldur will be there, obviously," Hermes said. "I heard rumors about Baron Samedi and Zao Shen. Mercury will be there, so I'm staying the hell away. Things get...weird, when we're in the same room."

"I remember." He bit his lip. "So...a global meeting. How's she pulling _that_ off?"

"It's about your Apocalypse," he said, as gently as possible.

"...oh."

"Look, Judas...I don't blame you for our downfall." Hermes smiled. "None of us do, not even Kali. Like Loki always said, your own pantheon doesn't want anything to do with you. I've never regretted listening to him about you. None of it's your fault."

Judas could hardly agree with that, so he just looked away.

"But...Kali's angry, and I think a little scared, and when push comes to shove..."

"She destroys things."

"She _is_ the Destroyer," Hermes agreed. "She likes you--maybe not as much as the rest of us do, but she does. As much as she likes anything that isn't either bloody or on fire and at her mercy, anyway. But if you end up anywhere near that meeting..."

"She'll crush me," Judas finished for him. "You're...sure Loki won't be there?"

Hermes shrugged. "I'm not sure of anything, at this point, other than when and where and what it's about. So...stay out of Indiana for the next couple days, okay?"

"Where in Indiana?"

The god stared at him. "Seriously, Judas, get as far away from there as you can. I can take you to Arcadia, if you want--you always liked Arcadia."

Judas forced a little smile. "Hermes, if Kali wants me there, she'll find a way to bend chance and make it happen. Where in Indiana? If I know..."

"You can avoid her traps." He sighed. "Muncie."

"Muncie," Judas repeated.

"I mean it. Let me take you to Arcadia. Or Samos, or Crete, or...just...far away from her."

"You're kind to worry about me, but I can handle myself. You all taught me well."

Hermes sighed, and shook his head. "Don't do anything stupid, please?"

He smiled again. "I was always the smart one."

"Yeah." Hermes hugged him again. "Take care of yourself, okay? I still owe you and Loki for Prague. I don't forget debts, whether I owe them or own them."

Judas hugged back. "You, too, my friend."

Hermes was gone in an instant, and Judas slumped a little, giving up on his mask of casual calm.

This was bad. This was _bad._ He needed to get there, and that meant...

The bridges he'd burned, the promise he'd made, none of that mattered now.

As fast as he could, he slipped out of the bus station, practically running all the way back to Bobby Singer's house.


	15. Part 3, Chapter 2: Sioux Falls, South Dakota

**Chapter 2**  
 _Sioux Falls, South Dakota_

 

Bobby was never exactly happy to wake up at four in the morning. Especially when the reason was someone banging on his door like the world was ending.

Which it was, to be fair, but not so immediately as to demand that kind of noise.

"What the hell...?" He grabbed the nearest shotgun and went to check who it was.

Judas was standing on his doorstep, very tense, and still banging.

 _What the_ hell? "I thought you were going back to Ohio?" he asked, opening the door a crack.

"That was the plan," he answered, low and tight. "But I need to go to Indiana instead. And I need to get there by tomorrow night--or tonight, I suppose, it is after midnight. I'm sorry, I know, I shouldn't have come back, not now, not after the way I left, and you certainly don't owe me any favors or help, but--"

"Where in Indiana?" Bobby asked, as much to cut off that semi-panicked babbling as to get the actual answer. He opened the door the rest of the way--without putting down his shotgun.

"Muncie," Judas answered promptly, following him inside.

Bobby motioned for him to sit, and passed him a glass of holy water--not that he thought it was likely one of the freaking nephilim could get possessed, but better safe than sorry. "That's...what, a twelve-hour drive?"

Judas shook his head and drank the water with no signs of distress beyond what he'd walked in with. "I don't know, I didn't look it up. I came because...do any of the cars in your lot work? I can't get there fast enough without one, and I..." Between the mundane question and the outwardly-ordinary gesture, he seemed to have gotten a much better grip on whatever it was that was freaking him out, even if he still sounded anxious.

"What's in Indiana?" Bobby slid a silver knife off of the table as subtly as he could, trying to gauge when the right moment would be to make sure Judas wasn't a shifter.

"I saw that," Judas said. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and held out his arm. "I understand, just...get it over with."

"Sorry," he said. "Can't be too careful." He made a shallow cut on Judas' forearm. It didn't start smoking, or react in any other way.

"It's fine," he said, though he shivered a little and curled his hands tight around the glass again, as if that would keep him steady.

Bobby wiped off his blade and set it back on the table. "So, what's in Indiana?"

Judas hesitated. "I don't know details."

"You obviously know enough to send you there in a hurry," Bobby pointed out.

Judas bit his lip. "There's...something happening there, tomorrow night--or tonight, whichever--that puts someone very important to me in very real danger. If he ends up there. Which he might not. But if he _does_...I might be able to help him, if things go badly for him. Which they almost certainly will, if he shows up. And the chances of that are...they're good." As he spoke, he got more and more agitated again, gripping the glass tighter and tighter, until it actually broke in his hands. "Dammit! I'm sorry," he said, hastily. "I didn't mean to--" He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry." He picked up as much of the glass as he could, then looked around, at a loss as to where to put it.

"Trash can's over in the corner," Bobby said, grabbing a roll of bandages. "Let me see your hands." This was probably something Judas could fix himself, of course, but Bobby doing it would keep both their hands busy. He didn't want to chance Judas accidentally breaking something else.

Wordlessly, Judas knelt next to him, letting Bobby examine the cuts he'd made.

"These ain't too deep," he said "So. Someone very important to you?"

"The person who took me in, when no one else would have me," he clarified, hissing a little when Bobby poured whiskey over his hands.

"Right," he said. "How'd you find out about this?"

"An old friend," Judas hedged. "I haven't heard from him for more than a century, but he wouldn't lie to me. Not about something like this."

"You seem awful sure of that." Bobby finished wrapping his hands, and got up again to put the supplies away.

"I am." Judas took a deep breath and studied the floor, trying to surreptitiously wipe up all his blood that had landed there.

 _Smart kid._ "If you haven't seen this friend of yours for over a hundred years..."

Judas shook his head. "We were close, before. And even if we weren't, he owes me a favor."

"It cross your mind this might be a trap?" Bobby asked.

"Of course it did. I'm not _that_ stupid. But I don't think it's one for me."

"You think it's for this...protector of yours."

He nodded. "Yes. I do."

Bobby eyed him. "Is he someone we need to know about?" Logic said he was Gabriel, of course, but when it came right down to it, they didn't actually know a hell of a lot about how Judas had spent the last two thousand years.

"If he wants to get involved, he will on his own. I'm sure he hasn't missed what's been going on." Judas gave him a plaintive look. "Please don't ask me for more detail. It's not fair to him."

He considered that for a long moment, then sighed. "Fine. I won't ask." He still had Judas' phone number, and the coin Gabriel had given the boys. Worst case scenario, he could summon him again and get more information from him that way, especially since the number was being watched. Which he should probably warn Judas about, in case any other safety measure he had were similarly compromised. "You should know, I called that number you gave me, after you left."

He blinked. "You did?"

Bobby shrugged. "Thought I could leave a message, get you to come back where it's easier to hide you."

Judas shook his head. "I..."

He held up his hands. "I ain't gonna have that argument with you. Not right now. Reason I brought it up is someone answered."

"Someone--wait, really? Who?"

"Didn't get a name. Young woman, sounded like she was maybe the boys' age or a bit younger." Bobby watched Judas' face for any kind of reaction. "She seemed kinda pissed I called."

Judas flushed. "That was Jane. She's a bit...sorry, I'll explain things to her as soon as I have time. She's a good person."

"She said she was your cousin."

He nodded. "She is." He hesitated, then clarified. "We're the only two nephilim in the world, at least as far as I've been able to find out."

"Huh," Bobby said, filing that away for future reference. Didn't mean he'd stop researching nephilim, just in case, but if Judas was fairly sure there were only the two of them, he probably wouldn't have to worry about them as a substantial threat. "You're sure she won't cause problems?"

Judas nodded again. "I am. She'll keep her head down, unless she's actually attacked."

"Good," Bobby said. He let that hang for a minute, leaving it up to Judas what to say next.

"But...about why I actually came back," he finally said, hesitant. "Will you help me? I just need a car. And a map, probably. I'll bring them back after, I promise. Please, I can't...please?"

"I'll help," he said. For one thing, despite what Judas said in his note, Bobby still figured the balance between them was in Judas' favor. And he'd promised to come back, at which point maybe Bobby could talk some sense into him. "I've got a van out back that should work for you."

Judas slumped, visibly relieved. "Thank you. Thank you so, so much."

"I hope you know what you're getting yourself into."

Judas took a deep breath, his eyes glittering a little. "So do I."


	16. Part 3, Chapter 3: Muncie, Indiana

**Chapter 3**  
 _Muncie, Indiana_

 

The long drive gave Judas space to calm down and breathe. He wished he had a phone with him to call Jane and reassure her that he was all right, but he didn't want to risk stopping at this point to find one. Hermes hadn't said when the meeting was supposed to start, after all, and if he got there too late...

 _I should have asked to borrow a phone and called her as soon as I woke up._ Of course, there had been other, more immediate issues to address, both times he'd awakened in Bobby's panic room. Just like there were now. He'd fix things in Muncie--or make sure there was nothing to fix--and then checking in with Jane would be his first priority. He owed her that much, at least. Especially if she was worried enough to outright threaten someone. Bobby hadn't _said_ she'd done that, not directly, but Judas knew how to read between the lines.

But before he could do that, he had to focus on finding out exactly where Kali was holding her meeting. Fortunately, he had a few ideas about that, and most were achievable with only a little bit of luck. Back when they'd all been friends, Judas had figured out how to track down everyone in their group, in case of emergency. He was fairly certain the others had done the same, as well as researching how to kill each other. It was only practical, as such alliances rarely lasted.

They'd had a good run, though. And Abba had been genuinely happy with Kali, in a way that Judas still liked to remember as often as he could.

But then things had started going wrong--Hermes had gotten in over his head in Prague, Kali and Abba had called things off, Abba had spent a few decades drunk and surly and accidentally set Chicago on fire...

 _Focus._ As much as Judas wanted to remember happier times--even if they hadn't exactly ended well--he had more important things to worry about.

He had to find the meeting, which meant finding Kali. He needed a few supplies for that--at least most of what he needed was easy to obtain, unlike the components for her summoning ritual.

Judas was finally able to cast the spell a few hours after what he guessed was sunset--it was storming badly enough to make it hard to tell when the daylight had actually ended. The spell pointed him to a hotel on the edge of town, appropriately called the Elysian Fields.

Of course, getting there was only half the problem--and it wasn't a small one, given the weather, either--because, once he arrived, he would have to get in without her noticing. Which was no easy feat, considering how many centuries he had spent with her and Abba and the others.

That meant an illusion, and it would have to be a very, very good one.

After some consideration, he decided the best way to do it would be to screen himself, erasing as much as possible his appearance on various levels of perception, rather than changing his appearance or setting up a decoy. No matter how hard Abba and Hermes and the others had tried to teach him, he'd never quite gotten the hang of creating things that weren't actually there. It was probably too close to lying, while hiding things was just--hiding things.

Once his illusion was in place, he hid the van a few blocks away from the hotel, and went the rest of the way on foot. He stretched out his senses very, very carefully--another useful skill, this one he'd learned from Hathor. If Abba wasn't here after all, he'd still wait and watch, just in case. Kali was his friend, too, after all, and this meeting could go wrong any number of ways even without Abba turning up. Despite the risks Hermes had pointed out, he wasn't going to walk away from this.

He detected Kali right away, exactly as expected. And there was Mercury, and someone he guessed was Baldur, though he'd never met him. No other gods he recognized personally, except...

 _He_ is _here. Dammit._

He folded space and shadows, hiding himself inside a tiny pinprick of being, no bigger than a speck of dust. If everything went well, he wouldn't have to take the illusion down until he was far, far away.

And then he spotted the familiar black car in the hotel parking lot. He groaned internally. _Of_ course _you two are here, too. Just what we all need. The two most valuable humans on Earth in the middle of this mess. This is going to go south the way Prague did, isn't it._

He felt himself flicker, his agitation interfering with his concentration. He took a deep breath and refocused, adjusting the shadows to make sure they hadn't slipped too far.

 _Thank you for the warning, Hermes,_ he thought. _I doubt you'd be surprised I'm doing the exact opposite of what you said I should. Even if you were probably right._

Judas approached the hotel carefully, staying in the shadows--and froze.

_Halo._

For a moment he was swept up in memories of Lucifer smiling gently, so gently, while demons came at him with fire and ice and claws and--

He swallowed and grimly suppressed those memories as best he could. He had to hope that Lucifer would be more interested in the gods--and the humans, and the other angel--inside than he would be in the lone, frightened half-breed hovering in the shadows outside. Otherwise, there was no way he was getting himself out of this intact, let alone managing to extract Abba.

Luck remained with him, at least for the moment. The fallen Archangel entered without even glancing in his direction.

_Oh thank God._

He drifted, concentrating on keeping the shadows bent around himself, circling the hotel, looking for another entrance, to limit his chances of drawing unfriendly attention. Abba was inside still, and, given the forces converging here, was distinctly unlikely to ever exit.

Kali and the Winchesters whisked past him, and Judas felt a faint surge of relief when she didn't seem to perceive him, either. _Good, I built it right. Here's hoping I can hold it._

He slipped into the ballroom--there was Lucifer, with his back to the room, flanked by a pair of copies of Abba.

 _Maybe he can do it,_ Judas thought. _Maybe Lucifer won't be able to tell which is real. I'm not even sure_ I _can..._

At any rate, the two of them seemed too focused on each other to perceive Judas' presence. So if Lucifer _did_ find his true brother...

_I can intervene._

It happened faster than Judas could believe. One minute, they were taunting each other, and pleading with each other, mingling the two the way only people who have loved each other and lost each other can, and then Lucifer was turning, taking Abba's _real_ hand, the hand that held his _real_ sword--

_Nephilim are fast, I know we are, let me be fast enough--_

Time seemed to slow, and Judas dove between the two Archangels, releasing his grip on his illusion of non-presence. He felt a trio of impacts; his body slamming into Abba's, the blade slamming into his chest-- _that's all right, I didn't really need that lung_ \--then the two of them slamming into the floor.

Abba was yelling something that Judas couldn't quite make out. Above them, Lucifer mostly looked surprised.

Then Judas heard Abba snap his fingers and felt the familiar rush of being flown away, just before everything went dark.


	17. Part 3, Chapter 4: On the Road

**Chapter 4**  
 _On the Road_

 

"Hey, guys."

Sam jumped, and slammed the laptop shut, guiltily.

Gabriel, half-carrying Judas, smirked at them. "I look good on camera, don't I?"

"I liked your mustache," Dean said. "You should wear it all the time."

"It _was_ impressive, wasn't it?" Gabriel answered.

"You said you were dead," Sam interrupted.

"Buzzkill," Gabriel muttered. "Yeah, I kinda jumped the gun a bit there," he continued at a normal volume, then set Judas down to lean against one of the tires. "Lucky for me, Judas here is a self-destructive dumbass."

"Lucky for all of us," Sam said. "If you're still around--"

"Yeah, me killing Lucifer is still probably off the table, sorry," the Archangel interrupted, fiddling absently with a small hole in his shirt--one that Sam, at least, was fairly sure hadn't been there back at the hotel. "Look, I barely got away alive when he _didn't_ know I was coming for him. Didn't even come close to laying a finger on him."

"So...what?" Dean asked. "After all that, you're bowing out?"

"Oh, I didn't say that," Gabriel said. "Just that I'm probably not gonna get close to him again. Not now that he knows whose side I'm on. So the rings--you got that far? Good--the rings are still your best option. We'll call me Plan B."

"Plan C."

Gabriel paused, smiled a little, then shook his head. "Go back to sleep, Judas."

"Plan C, Abba," Judas insisted, pushing himself up. " _I'm_ Plan B."

"No. _Hell_ no."

"Um, are we missing someth--?" Sam started, then Gabriel waved a hand and his voice gave out.

"Peanut gallery can shove it," Gabriel said. "Judas--"

"He was going to _kill you_ , Abba! What was I supposed to do?"

"Not get yourself _stabbed_ , for one thing," he shot back.

"I can't die, remember?" Judas replied. "And it's _hard_ to kill you, Abba, yes, but not _impossible_."

"I had a plan!"

Judas glared up at him. "Yes, and it was a wonderful one until he _saw right through it!_ He found the _real_ you, Abba!"

"Yeah, I know, I was kind of _there._ My own freaking brother tried to _stab_ me, I'm not gonna forget that in a hurry!"

"Abba--"

"What if he'd captured you again?" Gabriel asked.

"If it meant keeping you alive? I'd have borne it," Judas shot back. "I would have hated it, but I would have borne it, whatever he threw at me."

Gabriel laughed a little, trying to force a subject change. "Judas, you need to stop freaking punishing yourself."

"You think that's what this is about?" he said, refusing to play along. "Abba, it's--he could have _killed_ you. He almost did. Do you have _any_ idea what--" He glanced over at Sam and Dean, as if suddenly remembering he and Gabriel had an audience, then cut himself off. "I don't regret it. And you can't talk me into regretting it. Or going into hiding. I'm involved now, whether you like it or not, and I will see this through, as far as I can, and _you can't stop me._ " He folded his arms, glaring right into the Archangel's eyes.

Sam and Dean looked at each other, than at Judas and Gabriel, then back to each other.

 _Okay, what the hell?_ Dean mouthed.

Sam shook his head, eyes wide. _No idea, man. Your guess is as good as mine._

Gabriel stared back at Judas for a long moment, and blinked first. "Fine." He snapped his fingers, and Sam and Dean got their voices back. "The self-destructive dumbass is Plan B. He can sub in for the rings, if we can't get them all."

For a moment, no one said anything. Dean looked like he still wasn't quite sure how he should react to what they'd just seen, but there was something about the way the Weapon and the Archangel were still not-quite-glaring at each other that stuck out to Sam, reminding him of something Dean had said, months ago, when they'd first outed Gabriel.

And Judas had warned them, right when they'd first met, that screwing with him meant pissing off a heavyweight. And he'd told them he'd been sired by an angel, back in Carthage. And Gabriel had broken out of his sulky neutrality to rescue him. And Judas had, after running away from Bobby's house, put himself on the line again to return the favor.

Suddenly, the whole thing made perfect sense.

"Wait a minute, _you're_ his father?" Sam finally blurted out.

Dean blinked, and Sam could see the exact moment when his brother put the pieces together.

"...you _just_ figured that out?" Gabriel said, incredulous.

"Abba..." Judas said.

"How does that even--nevermind," Dean said. "Guess that explains why you tapped us to rescue him."

"No shit," Gabriel snapped. "I thought you two were _smart,_ I figured you would put it together no matter how hard I tried to--you know what, forget it. Screw you." He disappeared.

The three of them left behind stood in silence for another moment, then Judas shook his head again and muttered something probably not very complimentary under his breath in Aramaic.

"...well, he looked happy," Dean said.

"I thought he was going to help us now," Sam said, glancing over at Judas for confirmation.

He shook his head. "Don't worry, he is. He'll be back. He doesn't usually stay angry with me for long."

"Seemed like he was angry at all of us," Sam said.

He shook his head again. "Not really. Well, I mean, he _is,_ a little. Or, at least, I'm pretty sure he's pissed at my uncles, and himself, and maybe you...really, the world in general, I think. But mostly just me."

"I guess you would know."

"We _have_ been in touch at least once a week for two thousand years." He sighed. "He just...he's pissed that I got involved, and he couldn't protect me. Especially since I think he thinks I was trying to..." He trailed off, one hand drifting up to the scar on his neck.

Sam shifted awkwardly. "Were you?" he asked. If Judas _was_ still trying to...well, they needed to know, before he did something stupidly reckless.

...something _else_ stupidly reckless. Getting between Lucifer and Gabriel didn't exactly indicate a strong sense of self-preservation. And given that there had been that new hole in Gabriel's shirt, too, the blade must have gone all the way through Judas and at least wounded the Archangel, even if it didn't kill him.

Sam could see why Gabriel had been so upset, especially with his son's history.

But Judas just smiled faintly, and shook his head. "Not this time, no. I just...I couldn't let him die."

"It was really that close?" Dean asked.

Judas eyed the bloodstain on his shirt, and nodded. "It was really that close."

"Well, um, thanks," Dean said.

Judas glared at him. "I didn't do it for you. Or for your campaign. I did it because I _couldn't watch him die._ I'm glad he finally got off the bench, especially to join your camp. Believe me, I am. But that's not why I got between them."

"I know that," Dean said.

He sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you. I just...I don't like it when he's angry with me."

The three of them stood there awkwardly for a minute, then Sam cleared his throat and asked, "So, um, should we wait here, or...?"

Judas shook his head. "Not worth it. He might sulk for days. I don't _think_ he'll hold out that long, not with this much at stake, but..."

"So we should move on, and hope he finds us eventually."

He nodded. "He'll probably dreamwalk someone and get a location that way when he's ready."

"Might as well head back to Bobby's, then," Dean said. "Figure out how to find Pestilence and Death."

Judas blinked. "You already have the other rings?" He sounded impressed.

Dean nodded. "War we've had for ages. Famine's...more recent."

Judas glanced from one of them to the other, and apparently read something about that utter disaster on their faces. "Sounds like I should be glad I missed that one."

Sam nodded. "Yeah. Definitely." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, forcing back the memories of how it had _felt,_ drinking demon blood again.

And how it had felt _after,_ strapped down alone in the panic room.

Judas nodded and fortunately didn't ask for details. He wobbled a little and caught himself on the Impala's trunk. "Whoa..."

"You okay?" Sam said, as much grateful for the distraction as actually concerned.

"Just dizzy. It's been a long couple of days."

"Yeah, no kidding," Dean said.

"I might pass out again once I sit down," Judas warned.

"Just don't drool on the upholstery, and we're good," Dean said.

"Hey," Sam said, "we still have a coin of yours, back at Bobby's. You want it back, or...?"

Judas considered for a minute, then shook his head. "You should probably hold on to it until this is over," he said. "In case I need rescue again."

"Okay."

"We should get going," Dean said. "We've still got some daylight left."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, and helped Judas get into the car without falling down.

Moments later, they were on the road.


	18. Part 3, Chapter 5: On the Road, an Hour Outside Sioux Falls

**Chapter 5**  
 _On the Road, an hour outside of Sioux Falls_

 

"Hey, guys," Gabriel said, popping into the back seat next to Judas, who jerked awake with a faint yelp.

"What the hell!"

"DVD has a tracker in it," he said, before they asked.

"Okay, there's a _rule_ about poofing in and out of my car while I'm driving," Dean complained. "Don't do it."

"So...what, I'm just supposed to hover over you until you stop?" Gabriel asked.

"Yes!"

"That's boring."

"It's also less likely to cause an accident," Judas pointed out.

Gabriel ignored him. "So, we should plan."

Sam turned to look at him. "We already got rings from Famine and War. Do you know where the others are?"

Gabriel shook his head. "No, sorry."

"Can you zero in on them, or anything?"

He shook his head again. "I could find what's left of War and Famine for you, but that's not exactly helpful."

"What _can_ you do?" Dean asked.

"Go looking." Gabriel shrugged. "They've probably got high-level demons as PAs. With a little luck, I might be able to find those demons' names. Once we have those, we can summon 'em and get to the Horsemen that way. Meanwhile, the rest of you can look for omens and stuff," he said. "You know, the boring part. We keep in touch, check in every day or so. We'll track 'em down eventually, then we can work out our final move."

"Just have to hope we find them in time," Judas said quietly.

Once again, Gabriel ignored him. "I can also lay down some false trails. Keep Michael and his crew busy while you guys look for the Horsemen."

"You can't do all of that at once, Abba."

For the third time, Gabriel didn't respond. "Sound like a plan, guys?"

Sam and Dean exchanged a quick look in the rearview mirror. "What kind of trails?" Sam asked.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "I _am_ a Trickster, guys. I've got _loads_ of ideas."

"Yeah, well, before we sign off on this, you're gonna have to give us more than that," Dean said.

"Oh, come _on_ ," Gabriel complained. "I almost got stabbed for you! I'm _helping._ "

"You haven't exactly been Mr. Friendly in the past," Dean reminded him. "You didn't mention any of this crap about the rings when we were talking before. Which would have been helpful."

Gabriel shrugged. "You were being annoying. And you didn't ask."

"Yes, we did."

"You asked about _weapons,_ " Gabriel said. "Weapons that could _kill_ Lucifer. You never asked about locking him up again. If you _had,_ sure, I would have told you about the rings, just like we agreed." He smirked. "But I never promised to answer questions you didn't think to ask."

"You promised to be _honest_."

"Yeah, which means not lying. Which I didn't. Everything I told you was true. I just left some stuff out. You should have held out for better terms."

Next to Gabriel, Judas buried his face in his hands. Clearly this type of behavior was nothing new to him.

"You're a dick, you know that?" Dean said.

Gabriel smirked. "Never said I wasn't. But that was then, and now I _am_ on your side, committed and ready to get stabbed and everything, so...are we doing this, or what?"

"We'll talk it over with Bobby," Sam suggested. "Then we can all split up and track down demon names, or Horseman omens, or whatever."

"You're seriously getting a _second opinion?_ " Gabriel asked. "Who do you know that knows more about this crap than I do? I mean come _on._ "

Judas pinched the bridge of his nose. "Abba..."

Gabriel grumbled something under his breath, then slouched and glared sullenly out the window.

Judas sighed, visibly giving up, and looked out the opposite window, one hand resting uneasily on the bloodstain on his chest.


	19. Part 3, Chapter 6: Sioux Falls, South Dakota

**Chapter 6**  
 _Sioux Falls, South Dakota_

 

It took significantly longer than Judas wanted to get a chance to speak to Gabriel privately. First, they had needed to let Bobby know everything that had happened in Muncie, and start working out details of going for the remaining rings. He'd excused himself from the bulk of that conversation--whatever part he was to play, he trusted the others to fill him in, and he couldn't really add any information to what Abba had to offer. Instead, he'd borrowed Sam's phone so he could finally straighten things out with Jane.

Of course, it had turned out to be much harder than he had expected to convince her that he was all right, not being held against his will, and determined to proceed. Then she'd taken a good five minutes to call him several kinds of idiot for deliberately getting between their uncles (she wasn't wrong, but that fact wasn't going to change his mind). When she had finished that, she'd assured him that she wasn't going to cause any trouble for Bobby and the others, and she was going to continue to be sensible and keep her head down. In return, he had promised to check in with her as often as he could.

And even after all of that, it was still close to an hour before everyone else was distracted enough that he thought he and his father could slip away unnoticed.

He touched Gabriel's shoulder briefly. "We should finish," he suggested quietly.

Gabriel eyed him for a minute, then nodded. "Yeah. Outside?"

Judas inclined his head, and stepped back for the Archangel to lead the way.

For a moment, they just walked, and neither of them said anything.

"That was monumentally stupid, Judas," Gabriel finally said, in Aramaic--which meant someone had probably followed them outside, since he tended to stick to the dominant language of his environment unless he had a damn good reason not to.

"I wasn't trying to punish myself, or get myself killed or..." Judas sighed. "I _wasn't._ I was just...I couldn't let you die, Abba."

"Doesn't change the whole monumental stupidity thing."

"I know." They walked in silence for a long moment. "I didn't tell him anything. About you."

"...thank you," Gabriel said. "We don't have to talk about--"

"Yes, we do." Judas looked carefully anywhere but at his father. "Not much, because I don't want to...you don't need to hear details, but it's part of it, and we need to finish this stupid fight before it gets out of hand."

"Fine," he said. "You _do_ know he would have stopped, if you'd just told him you'd stay out of it, right?"

"I know."

"Then why the hell _didn't_ you?" he asked.

"Because I pushed him to start."

" _Why?_ "

"Because I couldn't take sides before you did."

Gabriel stared at him.

"If I'd let him keep talking..." Judas sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "If I'd given him an inch, he would have won me over. And then you...sooner or later, you would have been dragged into it. Either because you love me and he forced your hand, or because someone else got to you and it had nothing to do with me. The first would make it my fault that you did things you don't want to, and the second...I'd have to _fight_ you, Abba. And I couldn't..." He shook his head. "So I got him to stop talking, and hand me to his demons instead. I can handle pain, Abba. I don't enjoy it, and I avoid it when I can, but I can handle it. Not forever, I mean, I know I would have broken eventually, but...I can hold out longer against that than..."

"Than what?"

"Empathy."

They continued on in silence for another moment. "You'd already promised me you'd stay out of it," Gabriel reminded him. "All you had to do was tell him the same thing, and he would have let you go. Then you wouldn't have had to worry about--"

Judas stopped and stared at him. "Do you think I would've made that promise if I'd known what you were talking about when you asked me?"

He shook his head, and laughed a little, bitterly. "Why do you think I was so vague? Still--"

"I can hardly face myself in the mirror as it is, Abba, you _know_ that. If I'd given him what he wanted--even if it had been what _I_ wanted..." He took a deep breath, clenching and then slowly relaxing his fists as he let it out. "I didn't exactly get involved on purpose, anyway."

"Not the first time, maybe," Gabriel agreed. "But what about back there, on the road?"

"Well, you'd already signed on," Judas said. "So I followed you. As I would have, even if you'd chosen differently, but...I'm glad you picked the side you did."

"You still promised me."

"I know," Judas sighed. "But once I was in, I couldn't exactly...I didn't forget my promise, I just...I tried to walk away, I did. I was going to go back to Ohio, like I know you wanted me to. I was going to try to rebuild, but...who knows what's even left for me there? Other than Fenrir, who I sure has already been taken in by someone in a better position to look after him than I am now. And then I found out about Kali's meeting..."

Gabriel sighed. "How the hell did that happen, anyway? I doubt she invited you. You were never dumb enough to piss her off."

He shook his head. "She didn't. Hermes told me. I think Mercury told him, but I didn't ask."

"I'm gonna kill him."

"Don't, Abba. He was trying to warn me away."

Gabriel snorted. "Yeah, like he really thought that would work."

Judas smiled slightly. "I'm sure he didn't."

The Archangel sighed, uncharacteristically serious again. "I had a plan, Judas. You didn't need to jump in like that."

"Did you really think it would work?" he asked. "Or did you think you'd make the attempt, go out in a blaze of glory--or fake it, to get the Winchesters off your back--and not have to see this through?"

Gabriel turned and stared at him. "Are you _really_ in a position to be flinging that kind of accusation? I mean, come _on_."

Judas met his eyes evenly. "I can because I've been there. Maybe not the same circumstances, exactly, but somewhere similar. Besides, making a grand gesture and then refusing to deal with the consequences? We both know it wouldn't be the first time for you, either."

Gabriel shifted uncomfortably. "That was different."

Judas just held his gaze without replying.

"Yeah, well, either way, that's _not_ what I was doing, so shut up."

After a moment, Judas broke eye contact. "I'm sorry."

Gabriel sighed. "Yeah."

"I won't promise not to do it again," he said, "because I absolutely would, if it meant keeping you alive."

"Yeah, I know." Gabriel was silent for a long moment, then said, "Look, I'll stop trying to talk you out of it, I just...be careful, okay? I still mean what I said, when you made me that promise."

"I won't take unnecessary risks," Judas promised. "Provided you don't, either."

"When do I ever?" Gabriel said, smirking.

Judas rolled his eyes. "Do you want that list chronologically or by degree of stupidity?"

Gabriel burst out laughing. "Fine, fine. I promise."

"Oh, one more thing?" Judas said.

"Yeah?"

"I sort of borrowed a car from Bobby, and it got left behind."

"Obviously. And whose fault was that?"

Judas flushed. "I know, I know. But do you think it's safe to go back and get it now, or...?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "What would you ever do without me?" he said, then grinned and vanished.

Judas sighed, and switched to English. "Sam, you do know it's rude to eavesdrop, right?"

Sam flushed, and came out of hiding. "How'd you...?"

He shrugged. "I know a lot of things." Not that he'd actually known for sure _which_ of them had followed, but Sam made the most sense. Either way, he wasn't about to admit it had just been some lucky guesswork. "Look..." He sighed. "Abba and I? We're in this. We've...settled our argument, and we're both committed. But some things are private for a reason, all right?"

"Yeah. Sorry."

Judas waved a hand. "Just don't do it again."

Before Sam could respond, Gabriel reappeared with the van Judas had borrowed. "Hiya, Sam. Did Judas take care of your bad manners, or do I have to?"

"I handled it, Abba," Judas said.

Gabriel looked genuinely--and alarmingly--disappointed. "Oh, well."

Judas shook his head, and smiled a little. "Do I have to get the spray bottle?"

Gabriel stuck his tongue out at him, and tossed him the van's keys.

"Thanks," Judas said. He glanced over at Sam briefly, then said, "I should probably let Bobby know his van's back," and turned to walk away.

"He's a bit obvious, isn't he," Gabriel said.

"Yeah, I guess."

"So..." Gabriel gave him a carry-on gesture.

Sam smiled sheepishly. "Guess he's not the only one."

"Not at all."

He looked back in the direction Judas had gone, to make sure they were alone, then said, "Can I ask you about your vessel?"

Gabriel quirked an eyebrow. "Let me guess. You want to know if he could take the wheel without asking me first?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe," Gabriel said. "Probably not. But he doesn't want to. He likes it better in the backseat, hanging out with his memories and anyone he asks me to add in, or playing peanut gallery and egging me on. Right now, he's..." He got a strange look in his eyes, at once inward and far away, then smiled and shook his head. "He's doing X-rated things you probably don't want me to narrate for you."

"No, thanks," Sam said, hastily, then coughed awkwardly. "So, um...do you ever let him take control?"

"Once in a while," Gabriel admitted. "But like I said, he doesn't really want to. World's changed too much since he let me in." He shrugged. "But you're not really asking about me and him, are you."

Sam shook his head. "...do you think I could do it?"

He pursed his lips, considering. "Probably not. If you say yes, he's gonna wash over you like a supernova. You're not gonna be able to see or hear or feel anything but him. Exactly how long that lasts, you won't know 'til it happens."

"But once that part's over?"

"You have a shot," Gabriel conceded. "But it's like...getting a camel through the eye of a needle. And the longer he's in the driver's seat, the harder it'll be for you to win it back."

"So you don't think it'll work," Sam said.

He shrugged. "You and your brother seem to do your best work with long odds. It's _possible,_ sure, but...yeah, no, I don't think it's probable. But, hey." Gabriel smirked. "You've never listened to me before, why start now?"

Sam smiled back. "Well, you're on our side now."

"True. But I don't get the feeling you listen to people you know are on your side all that often."

He flushed and looked away, choosing not to answer that particular accusation. "Thanks. For the advice."

"Hey, it's what I'm here for. Partly, anyway," Gabriel said. "Look, how you do this, it's up to you. It's not a stupid plan, exactly, just a really risky one. You shouldn't totally forget it."

Sam nodded. "I'll talk it over with Bobby and Dean."

"Probably a good idea," Gabriel agreed. "And...if you want me to talk you through what might happen to you after, if this is your play...pray. Mention me specifically, I'll hear you wherever I am."

Sam blinked. "Even though I'm warded?"

"Yep. I mean, you'll have to tell me where to find you so I can help, or I'll track your dreams down, but yeah."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said.

The two of them stood there in silence a moment, then Gabriel shifted a little, tilting his head up at Sam. "Unless there's something else you want to ask me right now, we should probably head in, yeah?"

Sam shook his head. "No, I'm good. You're right, they'll be looking for us. Hey, can you..."

Gabriel smiled. "I'm pretty good with secrets, kiddo."

Sam relaxed a little. "Thanks."

"Any time," he said, then followed Sam back into the house.

 

**_End Part 3_  **


	20. Part 4: What They Say You Are, Chapter 1: Sioux Falls, South Dakota

**_Part 4: What They Say You Are_ **

 

**Chapter 1**  
 _Sioux Falls, South Dakota_

 

In a few hours, they were leaving. By tomorrow night, for better or for worse, it would be over.

Sam wasn't looking forward to it. Everything Cas said he'd have to do--falling off the wagon again, this time without Famine as an excuse, just for a start--and the part of Hell he'd be in if he pulled it off...

Not to mention what his body would be used for if he screwed up.

Gabriel was distracting Dean with some sort of absurdly complicated dice game (they'd started with Egyptian ratscrew, but that had led to several broken fingers and then Cas had taken the cards away), so Sam had slipped outside when no one else was paying attention, either. He needed to not think about their plan. Just for a little while. So he wandered aimlessly for a bit, and tried to think of anything other than what tomorrow would bring. And then he saw Judas, sitting on the roof, watching the horizon.

Sam climbed up and joined him. "Hey."

The smaller man looked up at him. "Hey."

"Mind if I sit with you?"

Judas shook his head.

Sam sat next to him, and watched the sky in silence for a minute. "...what was he like?"

"Who?"

"Jesus."

"Ah." Judas was quiet for a long moment, and Sam was half-convinced he'd decided to just ignore the question. Not that he'd blame him if he did, he just...

"I'm sorry, you don't have to--" Sam started, but Judas interrupted him.

"Have you ever felt a moment of complete peace?" he asked. "Just...not that everything is right with the world, necessarily, but that, someday, it can be, and...you are quiet within yourself, and..." He sighed, and shook his head. "It's hard to explain. But he...Yeshua...that's what he was like. That feeling."

"Oh." Sam didn't really have any kind of frame of reference for what Judas was talking about, so he'd have to take Judas' word for it.

"I remember..." Judas started, then glanced over at Sam. "Do you want me to keep talking?"

"...please?" It might help, for tomorrow, if he knew how it had gone before. Especially since Judas was the failsafe.

God, he hoped he wouldn't need that failsafe.

"I remember," he continued, "close to the end...just a few days before we entered Jerusalem." He shifted, turning away from Sam, eyes slipping out of focus and looking several centuries ago and half a world away, down a different, hotter, dustier road. "It got...hard, for me, when we got closer. Hard to hold onto that peace he gave us." He shook his head. "I think he knew, by then, what I was going to do, even if I myself didn't yet. And I...I started having nightmares, and I didn't know why. And he would wake me up, and offer me comfort, and tell me..." His voice broke. "He would tell me everything would be all right."

"You were trying to help," Sam said, a little awkwardly. He'd heard what Judas had told Ellen, six months before--they all had. Not that intentions really mattered. He knew that better than anyone.

Almost as if he'd read Sam's mind, Judas looked up, his eyes peculiarly bright in the moonlight. "So were you."

He flushed, and looked away. "Do you..."

"Yes?"

"Do you believe in it?"

"In what?"

"Redemption."

Judas didn't answer right away. "I try to," he finally said, slowly. "But it's...hard. Abba keeps telling me I don't even need it, but..." He shrugged. "Do you?"

Sam didn't have to think about it. "I _need_ to."

Judas touched the back of his hand lightly. "You're a better man than you give yourself credit for, Sam."

"So are you."

He smiled faintly, and pulled his hand back. "You're kind to say so."

They lapsed into silence for a few minutes.

"Sam? Judas?"

"Hey, Cas," Sam said, moving to the edge of the roof to look down at him. "Time to go?"

The angel nodded. "We have a few minutes, but they're looking for you."

"All right." He stood up and jumped down from the roof, the Weapon following half a beat behind.

"Good luck, Sam," Judas said quietly, once they were on the ground. He and Gabriel were going to Detroit separately, to limit the risk that Lucifer would detect his brother and give the game away. So this was goodbye, at least for them.

Sam smiled a little. "Here's hoping I don't see you again."

Judas smiled back, then hesitated a little before speaking again. "Listen, about Yeshua..."

"Yeah?"

"He wasn't afraid," Judas said, quietly, not looking directly at Sam. "Even when he told me what I'd done. He was just...sad. I don't know if that helps."

"It does, a little. Thanks."

Moments later, they scattered. All they needed now was a demon or two, and then...

Detroit, and the end of everything.


	21. Part 4, Chapter 2: Detroit, Michigan

**Chapter 2**  
 _Detroit, Michigan_

 

As soon as he could bring himself to move, Dean half-ran, half-staggered back out to the alley where Bobby and Cas were waiting. He didn't have to say it, at least. Probably one look at his face was enough for both of them to know.

Sam had lost.

But no one was moving, or speaking, or...anything. Dean had to break the silence before it broke him. "Cas, you need to call Gabriel."

"I...yes, of course," he said, and closed his eyes.

Bobby squeezed Dean's shoulder briefly while they waited. Dean didn't pull away. If nothing else, the point of contact helped center him on the here and now, instead of imagining all of the horrible things Lucifer was probably doing with Sam.

At least Gabriel responded quickly, appearing in a faint rush of wind with Judas at his side.

"He knew," Dean said, and it came out tired, not angry like he wanted. They'd gone into this on Gabriel's intel, and surprise had been their one real advantage. He _should_ be angry, he just...he couldn't quite muster up the energy for rage.

"I'm sorry," Gabriel said, quietly and sounding unusually sincere. "I got it from Persephone, he'd never use that source, and from what she said it was a really well-kept secret, so I thought..." He trailed off. "I'm sorry."

Dean shrugged. "You know where to go now?"

He shook his head. "No. I could track them, but that wouldn't give us time to get in place. I could...maybe I could find out. If I reached out to Raphael, he might tell me."

"Or he might lock you down," Cas pointed out.

"Or that," Gabriel agreed.

"I'll call Chuck," Dean said. "He might have seen it. If he doesn't, then you should try reaching out."

"All right."

Dean went back to his car to get his phone.

"You think anyone heard you guys?" Bobby asked Gabriel.

Gabriel shook his head. "No. Trust me, I know what I'm doing."

"Never said you didn't."

"I got through," Dean said, rejoining them. "I know where it's going down. Stull Cemetery, noon tomorrow."

"Okay. I'll go ahead," Gabriel said. "You take Judas and meet me there."

Judas looked vaguely alarmed. "You're Plan C, Abba, remember?"

He waved a hand. "I remember. Look, I'm not about to get myself killed. I know damn well I don't have a shot there. Not taking them both on together, not when they're gearing up for a fight. But when they meet, they're going to stare each other down and have a little Moment before they break out the blades and start stabbing. Trust me, I _know_ them."

"So what's your plan, then?" Dean asked.

"I'm going to prolong that moment as long as I can."

"How?"

Gabriel smiled, small and sad and fierce. "I'll grab their attention then make it up as I go. Look, I'll keep them busy, you guys sneak around behind, and Judas can do what he has to. There's a chance they might pick up on him coming in, otherwise."

"All right." It wasn't really a _plan,_ but they were down to the wire and there was no time to pick it apart now.

"Do you think that kissing Lucifer will be enough?" Judas asked quietly.

"I don't know," the Archangel admitted. "It might. Depends on exactly how attached to this whole thing Michael is. I won't know 'til I talk to him."

"But it might not." He shifted a little. "I don't know if I'll be able to get to both of them."

"We'll deal with that if we have to," Dean said. "Can we just...not talk about more things going wrong? Please?"

"I'm sorry," Judas said. "I'm just...I'm sorry. You're right, we should go."

"I'll stall as long as I can," Gabriel said. "And I'll try to signal about Michael, but I can't promise anything."

"How much time can you buy us?"

The Archangel shrugged. "Maybe ten minutes, probably less. I can't take them both on in a straight fight. I probably wouldn't last long against either of them alone, I only managed to buy you guys time to get out of that hotel because Lucifer let me run my mouth. He might not, this time, since he knows I won't fight for him. I'm hoping Michael still thinks he can persuade me."

Dean nodded. "We'll make it work."

"See you there, then," Gabriel said. "Good luck. Try not to die."

"Yeah, you too."

Gabriel vanished.

"Okay, let's go," Dean said.

Judas nodded, and followed him to the car. "I'm sorry," he said, once they were on their way. "For everything."

"Don't," Dean said. "Just...let's get this over with."

He nodded again, and fell silent, watching the road spill out in front of them.


	22. Part 4, Chapter 3: Lawrence, Kansas

**Chapter 3**  
 _Lawrence, Kansas_

 

Gabriel was waiting for his brothers, perched idly on a headstone, when they flew into the cemetery. "Hey, guys. Been a while."

"What are you doing here?" Lucifer asked.

Gabriel shrugged. "Seemed a little unfair, you two throwing a family reunion and not inviting me."

"You forfeited your place in this a long time ago, Gabriel," Michael said.

He managed to, at least for the moment, ignore his hurt at that, and refused to back down. "Yeah? Well, I say screw that. I'm here because I love you both and I don't want to see you die. _Either_ of you."

"You were willing to stab me not that long ago," Lucifer pointed out mildly. "And you said you'd--what was it? Shiv Michael's ass, too?"

"Because you wouldn't _listen,_ " Gabriel insisted. "I swear, you _never_ listen. Neither of you ever did. You were both too wrapped up in your own heads to--"

" _You're_ the one who ran away," Michael interrupted. "You abandoned _everything._ And you call _us_ selfish?"

"Oh, I never said I wasn't," he said. "I was always just as self-absorbed as you two. But I grew out of it. Ish. I mean, I learned a lot, hiding out down here. About the world, about people, about myself...maybe you guys should try it sometime. Get some perspective."

Lucifer snorted with derision. "Perspective, Gabriel? Really? That's the best you can do?"

"At least I'm making an effort!" he yelled. "At least I'm _trying_ to find another option."

"You think I _want_ to do this?"

"I think you're too willing to kill all of us just 'cause things didn't end up the way you wanted. Me, Michael--I bet if Raphael were here, you'd stab him too."

Lucifer didn't argue with that.

"I just--" Gabriel sighed. "Will you _look_ at yourselves? You really think this is what Dad wanted for us? To kill each other, instead of, I don't know, using our words like civilized monsters?"

"I'm not a monster, Gabriel," Michael said. "I'm doing what's _right_."

Gabriel couldn't see Lucifer's face, but he could picture it. If he didn't respond fast, his brothers would be back to focusing on each other. Of course, once he opened his mouth next, it would probably get violent--faster than he'd planned for. No help for that now. Even if it was less than he'd hoped, if he _didn't_ keep their focus, he'd be stuck in a dead end.

Emphasis on 'dead.'

"Because no monster has ever said _that_ before."

Michael moved first, which was probably for the best. Gabriel was _almost_ certain his oldest brother didn't actually want him dead, while Lucifer had made it eminently clear he would go that far.

He still dove to the side, because he wasn't stupid. He heard the headstone crack at the impact from Michael's blade, and pulled out his own to block Lucifer, who was only half a step behind.

He'd promised to buy the others as much time as he could, and he would. All he had to do now was stay alive long enough to figure out a way to distract them so he could switch with a projection. He'd always hated fighting, and he wasn't actually all that good at it, and he sure as hell didn't plan on dying here today, if there was any way to avoid it.

Best way to do that was keep his brothers talking. He couldn't keep ducking and weaving and dodging their blades forever. "None of us want this, so why don't you just--"

"Just because _you_ are willing to abandon your responsibilities doesn't mean I am," Michael interrupted. "Grow up, Gabriel. This isn't about _wanting._ It never has been."

 _Almost--there!_ If he dodged just right and Michael moved exactly like he expected, he'd have that split second he needed to make the switch. And as long as neither of them actually _saw_ him fly away, which he could probably manage since neither of them had spent near as much time on Earth as he had (assuming they weren't looking directly at him when he made the switch), he could pull this off.

He shifted to make sure would Michael fling him at exactly the right angle, then activated the projection and hid his true self.

_It won't fool them for long, but maybe it'll last long enough._

Sure enough, the projection only bought him a fraction of a second. Which was _almost_ all he needed, but not quite. Michael managed to graze him, burning the edges of his wings.

He bit back a cry of pain and dropped himself in a hastily-constructed pocket dimension and curled up to lick his wounds and try not to watch.

_That's all the time I can get you. Hope it's enough. Sorry._

For better or worse, it was pretty much in Dean's hands now.


	23. Part 4, Chapter 4: Lawrence, Kansas

**Chapter 4**  
 _Lawrence, Kansas_

 

"Stop the car," Judas said, suddenly.

Dean slammed on the breaks. "What the hell? We don't know how long Gabriel can--"

"He's not there," Judas interrupted. "I only see two haloes."

"...you can see haloes?"

He nodded. "It's been useful before." He bit his lip.

"So...what, you think they...?" He trailed off.

"I don't know. I don't think so. I think I'd know if he--" Judas took a deep breath. "I'm going in."

"What, head-on?"

Which, as Abba had pointed out, that was almost certainly a one-way trip, but, "I don't exactly have a better play right now. If it works, you'll know. If it doesn't..." He hesitated. "Give me two minutes, then...do whatever it is you'd do if Abba and I weren't here to help."

Before Dean could argue, Judas got out of the car and faded into shadow.

This was risky--even more than the last monumentally stupid move he'd pulled--but didn't really have much choice. He'd managed to slip past an archangel and a goddess who knew him personally before. Michael had never met him, so he had that slight advantage, at least in theory. It wasn't much, but he'd take what he could get.

There weren't nearly as many shadows outside at noon as there were on a dark and stormy night, of course, but Judas didn't actually need very much to hide himself. He was small, and quiet, and had spent years as a guerilla fighter and saboteur. With any luck, he'd be just as unworthy of notice here as he had been back in Indiana.

Unfortunately, today was proving no luckier than yesterday had been.

Michael, unlike Lucifer at the hotel, was actually paying attention.

And Michael, when he wanted to make a point, proved to be far crueler than Judas had ever imagined. He'd thought Lucifer's demons were creative--hell, he'd thought he himself was, in his own darkest moments, the first few centuries after Yeshua's death--but none of that compared to the pain Michael inflicted. And Michael, he was fairly certain, just wanted him out of the way.

A tree grew around him and through him, branches piercing him everywhere, growing through his chest and limbs and around his spine, keeping him trapped and bloody.

A part of him appreciated the exquisite irony of being nailed to a tree, even without any actual nails. But most of him just _hurt._

And it wasn't even that it was unexpected, even if it was harsher than he'd dreamed--he knew enough about Heaven, Abba had told him enough stories about how brutal his oldest brother could be, he'd been prepared for pain if he got caught. But there was pain, and then there was _pain_.

But what really threw him was the fact that, while he waited to pass out--because at least he had that comfort--he could have sworn he heard Lucifer asking if that was really necessary.

He'd probably imagined it, though. No, he almost certainly had. Whatever sympathy Lucifer had pretended before, Judas knew how his uncle felt about anything that wasn't a pure angel. Lucifer hated humans, he hated demons, and a creature like Judas, who polluted angelic blood by mixing it with human...oh, yes, Lucifer would have destroyed him when he was done.

Though maybe Lucifer had enough genuine sympathy to grant Judas the mercy of a quick death, once he collected all the coins. Maybe that was what he meant. Judas could believe that.

Before he could confirm what he heard, or figure out his uncle's motives, he heard music, and a motor (though that might have just been the blood pounding in his ears), and he finally blacked out.


	24. Part 4, Chapter 5: Lawrence, Kansas

**Chapter 5**  
 _Lawrence, Kansas_

 

He came and went in flashes.

Mostly, it was like Gabriel (and, a year ago, Jimmy Novak) had warned him--chained to a comet; drowning in a supernova; cradled by a storm--at least at first. He lost track of time, he didn't know how many seconds or minutes or hours or days it was before he could feel anything else.

_Flash._

When he found himself again, he built himself an island. Or, at least, that was what it sort of felt like--black rock, with waves of poison light whipping around it, faster than he could track. He tried not to watch it; it made him dizzy. He focused on adding layers to his island, trying to push the light back. He knew Lucifer knew what he was doing--he could _feel_ what the angel thought about it, like watching a puppy try to dig deep enough to uproot a tree, an amusing diversion, not a threat.

_Flash._

He was present in his skin again, sort of. There was blood under his nails. He itched to chip away at it, but Lucifer wouldn't let him. Bodies from his past lay scattered around him, he just wanted to clean it away.

_Flash._

They were moving towards the end. Lucifer was calm, steady. Not actually happy, not even content, but ready. Accepting.

_Flash._

The hard part wasn't the rage. It wasn't the calm. It wasn't that Lucifer was, in his own twisted way, trying to be _kind._ It wasn't even the sticky blood under his fingernails and his sick sense of joy when those people, the ones who weren't people anymore, the ones who had watched him all his life--it wasn't the joy he felt ripping those people apart. It wasn't the crushing knowledge that any control over his life--any free will he'd ever had--was long gone, taken away by Azazel, by his father, by Lillith, by Ruby--by Lucifer.

_Flash._

The hard part was when Lucifer was quietly pleased--even relieved--when Michael's shot only grazed Gabriel's wings. The hard part was when Lucifer was _proud_ of how well his little brother had dodged, had hidden himself.

_Flash._

The hard part was when Lucifer was full of distaste, for how unnecessarily cruel Michael had been in sidelining Judas. The hard part was when Lucifer was angry at himself for that distaste, for that pity. He tried to latch onto that confusion, make it into a weapon or a boat, but the ocean of light kept beating against his island, and he couldn't cut through it, even using that bitter, conflicted anger against his angel.

_Flash._

The hard part was that Lucifer was, in the end, his angel.

_Flash._

The hard part hadn't even started yet.

_Flash._

He was present in his skin again, sort of--a thin line of that poisonous, oil-slick light coated him, keeping him insulated from any real control. All he could do was see, and hear, and _feel._

Feel Castiel break.

Feel Bobby break.

Feel Dean--

_Dean._

He scraped frantically at the-- _crack_ \--at the light, trying to peel it off of-- _crack_ \--off of himself, force it onto the-- _crack_ \--onto the island, and then he--

_I'm not gonna leave you._

And then he saw it.

A solder, shoved into a box.

A lifetime of memories, a lifetime of love, a lifetime of--

And then it was clear. How he could do it.

The cracks in Lucifer--they were just like the cracks in _him_ \--the grief and the rage and even the love and he could line up the cracks and hold them tight and--

_Got you!_

"It's okay, Dean. It's gonna be okay. I've got him."

He trapped the light inside the island, and reached into his pocket.

His _empty_ pocket.

Lucifer had ditched the rings. He didn't have the rings, he didn't have--but there was still Judas, right where Michael had put that tree--

...and still bleeding everywhere, and not moving at all--not dead, because he couldn't die, but not _moving._

"Judas!" He could _feel_ Lucifer clawing at his mind, he knew he couldn't hold him on the island for long, and he _didn't have the rings._ He wasn't at all surprised Judas had passed out--there was a freaking _tree_ growing through him--but now he _needed_ Plan B back on track, dammit!

And he couldn't get him _out_ of the tree, not by himself, not fast enough.

He didn't really think it would work, but he still tried slapping Judas awake. Shaking him--or what he could reach--likewise produced no results.

So he tried begging. "Come on, wake up, please, I can't hold him forever..."

Finally, _finally,_ Judas opened his eyes. "...Sam...?" he whispered.

"Yeah." He forced a smile. "Come on, I need you to kiss me, or whatever, fast..."

Judas tried to do it, pushing himself out of the tree as far as he could, whimpering, but he couldn't manage it. His range of motion was too small, and he was too badly injured.

So he helped.

He tilted Judas' face up and kissed him. It was light, and hot, tasting like fever and blood, ashes and grief and a desert wind blowing over him.

" _No!_ " Michael was back, and angry, trying to--

He was starting to feel it, thorns spreading under his skin, down and outward and everywhere, peeling him back layer by layer. He dropped to his knees--mostly unintentional--and felt Michael miss a step beside him, coming close enough, just barely close enough, and Judas had found the strength--or the adrenaline--to move. His eyes flared silver as he pushed himself just free enough to catch Michael's hand. Judas kissed it, fast and feather-light and bloody, before his eyes went dark and he blacked out again.

He heard Michael scream--or maybe it was Adam, or Lucifer, or himself.

Then everything--all of it, Judas, and Cas, and Bobby, and Dean--burned away in a hot, white light.

The last thing he felt was the blood under his fingernails quietly washing away.


	25. Part 4, Coda: Lawrence, Kansas

**Coda**  
 _Lawrence, Kansas_

 

Castiel and Gabriel sat together, just the two of them, after cleaning up the mess Michael and Lucifer had left behind. Bobby was going home. Dean was going to try and build himself a new life. Judas was going off alone to points unknown, but Gabriel insisted he'd be in touch before too long. It was the best ending they could have hoped for, given the circumstances. Somehow, despite everything, against all possible odds, it had worked. They had won.

The Apocalypse was over.

"Will you be returning to Heaven now?" Castiel asked.

Gabriel laughed a little. "I probably should, yeah." He sighed. "I don't know. I burned a lot of bridges when I left."

Castiel blinked. "Do you think that will matter?"

"Honestly? I don't know. I don't know _what's_ gonna matter anymore. It's a brave new world out there, bro." Gabriel smiled at him. "We sort of ripped up the playbook on this one."

Castiel smiled back. "I suppose we did."

They sat in silence for a few moments, before Gabriel spoke again. "You know what?" he said. "You go. Go home, go tell everyone...let 'em all know what happened. I'm sure they were probably watching, but hey. They'll probably appreciate the play-by-play."

"What about you?"

"I'll be there," he said. "Soon."

"Come with me," Castiel said, but Gabriel shook his head.

"I'll be there soon, I promise. I just..." He trailed off. "I'll be there soon. Tell them that, too."

"All right."

Gabriel smiled again, gave him a half-mocking little salute, and vanished.

Castiel let him go. He turned his eyes to Heaven, and smiled. He was going home, and soon everything would be right again. Or whatever the new 'right' was.

_A brave new world indeed._

He couldn't wait to see it.

 

 _**End Part 4**  _ 

 

_**Fin** _

 


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